The Will of Jennifer Keller
by KalliopeKore
Summary: Everything for Jen and Ronon is different now. R/K
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **My first post in this fandom, so I hope you all are up for meeting a new lost cause. Love this pairing – just couldn't help myself. Thanks to Nika for her encouragement and patience. No ownership, no revenue, just some fun that I wanted to share._

The Will of Jennifer Keller Chapter 1

Ronon extended his arm towards Jennifer, who stared up at him from her position sprawled out on the floor of the gym. He couldn't hide his surprise at the strength and determination with which she locked her hand around his forearm and readied for the next attempt. He thought she would have taken a break by now, but instead she just took her ready stance and cued him to start.

Her voice was filled with purpose. "Again."

He move towards her, executing his part of the move with the same precision as the other eight times. Every attempt she was putting one more piece of the puzzle together - not enough to end up in a position other than completely horizontal, but closer to success with each try. She reached her arm to the air as he aided her to her feet.

Her resolve was certain, but with a hint of frustration in her tone. "Again."

Finally experiencing some measure of success, she was able to swing the momentum of his first move, but stepped directly into his counter. And found herself again flat on her back.

"Good," he said encouragingly.

"Not good." Her realistic streak didn't like to be patronized.

"OK. Not good. Better." It was a compromise. None of this was easy to learn, and she had started from basically zero. He was at least sure she was getting better as the sessions went on.

His arm outstretched in front of her. She took it and readied. She rolled her neck to loosen her stance. "Again."

He approached once more. This time, she executed the move as intended. She captured his arm, played into his momentum, evaded his counter and turned him. It was comical in a way, to see the body of the Satedan flip in the air at the manipulation of this slight woman. His expression went from surprise to pride as he looked up from the mat. She looked down at him and glowed in excitement.

Her victory, however, was short lived. With a smile wide across his face, Ronon swept his leg out hitting the back of her knee, buckling her to the ground. His speed and agility allowed him to position himself to cushion the impact on her head and neck - one more time, flat on her back.

One hand beneath her head, one across her body with his chest right above hers, the smile never left his face. Her face, on the other hand, lost its smile. She went from triumphant to stunned in a split second.

"What was that?" She asked in disbelief.

"That," he said, "was your next lesson."

"You couldn't let me enjoy myself a minute longer?"

"I could have."

She guided her left hand to his side, expecting to find the leather of his tunic but the move had hitched it up slightly and she found her fingers flush against his warm skin.

He closed his eyes for a brief second. Her touch was like a bolt of electricity making its way through his body. He was instantly hot. Instantly hard. Wanting more – needing more, but couldn't have it. Certainly not here, and not in this moment. Not with a woman who had not declared her will.

On Sateda the will of a woman was a sacred thing. Each woman decided for themselves when they were ready to be joined and declared their will to the community. Touching a woman before that declaration was simply not done. More modern families would throw parties or make proclamations or announcements. More traditional women wore the mark of their will on their body, but the practice was followed by all.

To pursue a Satedan woman who had not declared her will was to disrespect the woman and dishonor the man. Ronon had no idea how those traditions translated to Earth cultures, and discussions on these topics often got more questions then answers from Sheppard. Ronon didn't want to make the issue public knowledge by asking anyone else.

He was a man of instinct. If he spent enough time watching, learning, sensing, he would know what to do next. After all, he loved her. She just didn't know yet. And he had no intention of rushing her.

He also knew her fingers lightly brushing his side was not idle contact. It meant something.

Jennifer was not casual with her touch. It had taken weeks and months for her to reach out to him. On missions, in the infirmary, sure, they came into contact but it wasn't the same. In all the times they spent watching movies or training or running or taking walks in the evening – she was reserved with her body. Someone that careful would not take intimacy lightly. Neither did he. Just one more way in which she was worth the wait.

He stood and extended his arm down to help her up one more time. She locked her hand to his forearm and he lifted her from the ground.

He surveyed her body up and down. It was killing him to not press her tonight.

"Tomorrow?" It was the only word he trusted himself to say while he regained his center.

"IOA visit starts tomorrow. I'm going to be swamped for the next eight days."

"That's right. Sheppard put together an off-world schedule to stop me from spending too much time with them."

"So when the visit is over we'll pick up where we left off here?"

He liked the hint of regret in her voice it would be so long until they could continue.

"Whenever you're ready for more."

He could feel her pulse quicken as he leaned to her - could sense the change in her breathing as he stopped just inches from her face. The color of her cheeks deepened as she looked around the room to ensure they were still alone. Her arm reached around and pulled their foreheads together. He sensed he was not the only one battling for control.

And then she released him and was back in her own personal space.

She looked away and he searched to name the emotion on her face. Uncertainty? Embarrassment? Insecurity? He wanted to reassure her but the sound of the door opening made it impossible.

There was a class in the gym that night. Lorne's newest squad made their way in and began warming up. Jen took a few more steps back from Ronon and began cooling down, stretching out her muscles in ways that gave Ronon bad ideas. He paced like a sentry, keeping himself between the new recruits and Jennifer.

Content she had stretched enough she gathered her water bottle and towel from the floor. She stepped towards him to make sure her voice wouldn't carry as she spoke. Her fingertips grazed his. She gestured towards the door with her head. "I'm gonna, you know, get going."

The nervousness in her manner made him smile. "Big week for you."

"Yeah. I guess so. So… we'll pick up where we left off after the IOA visit?" She was looking for something from him. She wasn't quite ready to leave.

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"I said that we would. I wouldn't have said it if it weren't a promise."

"So yes?"

"Yes, little one."

Her smiled brightened, and to Ronon it felt as though the room had brightened. She backed up a few steps still holding eye contact. Finally, about half way across the room, she laughed - just the smallest amount - and turned for the door.

Ronon was watching her leave when he sensed his eyes were not the only eyes on her. As he sought out the offending party he found nothing more than a new recruit who had noticed her and was watching her cross to the door.

Ronon moved to the Marine with silence and speed. As the door closed behind Jennifer, the Marine turned back to his friend. "Wow," was all he got out before he realized that in the place of his friend these now stood the formidable Satedan.

"Wow?" Ronon inquired menacingly.

"Did you see…" Something in Ronon's face made the Marine stop his sentence.

"Chief Medical Officer Doctor Jennifer Keller? Yes. I did."

"Oh. Well. I didn't realize…" The Marine was perceptive enough to know he should be apologizing, but hadn't yet figured out why.

"You should be preparing for your training with Major Lorne this evening."

"Tonight is just a review. We don't start sparring until tomorrow," he answered, clearly not concerned.

"You should take your preparations more seriously."

"Why is that?"

"Because your sparring session tomorrow is with me."

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION:

Final preparations were underway as the IOA delegation readied for the Atlantis visit. Of the fourteen person team, two huddled alone in a secluded office. Their discussion was a familiar one – a logic exercise they went through before they set a covert operation into motion. It was the final _go – no go_ check.

The older man required resolution to his last objections before a green light would be given. "Are you sure it's wise to move on this while the IOA delegation is on Atlantis? Won't it be too easy to tie back to us?"

The younger, taller man shook his head. "Not at all. It gives us the perfect cover to approach the asset when everyone's schedules are thrown off by the visit. Changes in her routine will be overlooked, and if not overlooked, they'll be easily explainable."

The older man continued listing his objections. "She has a high IQ for this type of process." Subjects for this type of operation were usually chosen to fit a profile. In this case, they had a requirement and were stretching the profile to match.

"Undeniable, but it's just one of many factors. She'll be an easy target."

"Easy?"

"Isolated from her colleagues by age and background, isolated from her peers by accomplishment. A history that lacks significant social ties or relationships. An insecurity in her new surroundings. An off-world history of being the weak link. There's a lot there to work with."

"And intel says she is the right point of entry?"

"She sees all personnel and reports after a mission. She knows the unsantitized version of the stories. And she has the knowledge to kill someone in a few hundred different ways."

"This woman is not a killer. She doesn't have the will to end another's life by her own hand." The older man tossed the personnel file marked CONFIDENTIAL across the desk.

"When I'm done it won't be her will – her will be mine. She will take a life before the delegation leaves."

The older man paused. He carefully weighed the risk and reward. "Mission plan approved. Proceed with extreme caution. You have eight days to complete the task at hand. Unsuccessful attempts mean full elimination of evidence. I want SITREPs daily."

Dr. Anatol Jarrick looked at the file folder that had been tossed in front of him. He opened it, although there was no need. He'd memorized every detail.

He lifted the picture of his subject and smiled. "It is going to be a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Jennifer Keller.


	2. Chapter 2

The Will of Jennifer Keller Chapter 2

IOA DELEGATION VISIT DAY 1

Initial formalities for the IOA visit had gone as expected. Ronon wanted no part, taking them in from a secluded spot on one of the balconies overlooking the gathering. Jennifer stood to Woolsey's side greeting each member of the delegation, learning their name and purpose. Ronon smiled watching how she put people at ease in everything she did. Sheppard called it her bedside manner. Ronon had thought he was talking about something else entirely, but Sheppard explained it in a way that didn't end in a sparring session.

Ronon watched her direct the delegation to a conference room near the control room. She stopped briefly, turning, her eyes scanning the balcony level. She was looking for him. When their eyes met he was motionless. She felt him watching her. She smiled back and continued on her path until she was out of his sight.

As Jennifer and Dr. Jarrick reached the exit of the room Dr. Jarrick stepped closer to his guide. "A private word, Dr. Keller?"

She graciously motioned to the hallway and stepped outside to speak with him.

"Doctor, I know you are very busy, but as CMO I have a special request I need to make of you. We have a member of the delegation who suffers from a .. condition .. sometimes requiring special attention."

"If you would like to come to the medlab we can…"

"No, no. Unnecessary. We have someone who monitors the condition regularly. As a standard operating procedure we provide a communicator to local medical staff in the event of an episode to ensure immediate access to facilities and personnel. Our request is that you would take the communicator for precautionary purposes, and that you would not go off-world for the duration of our stay."

"Our facilities are state of the art, and our staff is second to none, Dr. Jarrick. My team is ready to assist in any way possible. My Atlantis communicator can find me at all times – I'm certain it'll be sufficient. As for off-world travel, I'd have to talk with Mr. Woolsey."

"I have already taken the liberty of approaching Mr. Woolsey. He's agreeable as long as you have no objection."

"No, of course not. If you have reason to believe I'll be needed here then I'll stay put."

"My sincerest thanks, Doctor. And also, if you would take the communicator." Jarrick held it up in front of her, shaking his head to silence her earlier objections. It looked no different from a watch with slightly bulkier face. "I am sure Atlantis has an excellent system in place, but this has worked well in the event of emergencies before. Our team is trained and practiced in using it. It would put our minds at rest."

Jennifer looked at the communicator. It was clunky for her taste, and large for her slight wrist, but was hardly a hardship. "Of course."

Jarrick watched Jennifer secure the band around her wrist. "Thank you, doctor. I'm sure we're just being cautious. Chances are slim we will need to activate it at all."

"I hope you're right, but if you need assistance, don't hesitate."

Jarrick smiled as he took his leave, following after the group as it made its way into the conference room. He passed slowly behind Representative Stanton. The two exchanged glances and Jarrick nodded his head. "It's done."

IOA DELEGATION VISIT NIGHT 1

Jennifer's eyes darted around the room in complete disorientation. She was sure just moments ago she was climbing into her own bed in her own quarters. She had no recollection of how she got here, or where here was. The only thing even remotely familiar was the face of the man walking around the room, and his presence offered her no comfort.

"Dr. Jarrick? What's going on? Where am I?"

"Everything is fine Dr. Keller. No cause for alarm. I needed to have a conversation with you privately."

Jennifer surveyed her surroundings, then herself. "In my pajamas?"

"At a time when we could speak freely. Now just happened to be the most convenient." His voice was calm and even.

"About what?"

"There are concerns about the expedition, Dr. Keller, concerns that require action. Some at the IOA believe a major change in personnel and process is required to achieve the results we require."

Jen's head shook back and forth. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure what any of that has to do with me." She struggled to make sense of her situation. "Or my pajamas."

He laughed. "You're in a position to be of assistance to the IOA on this matter, Dr. Keller."

She could tell he wanted something form her – she just couldn't tell what. "I can't imagine how."

"You know things, see things. You have a more complete understanding of most mission reports from your contact with the scientific and military personnel. You have unlimited access to the people who run the expedition."

"So do you."

"No. Not by a long shot. And I think you know that."

Jennifer's anxiety was rising by the minute. "I think if you want to continue this conversation you'll need to do it at my office tomorrow." She attempted to stand, overestimating her current strength. Jarrick needed almost no pressure to put her firmly back into her chair.

"Now, now, Dr. Keller. Don't be that way. You won't remember any of this tomorrow, so I need to use this time well." He turned his back for a moment and faced her again, this time with a syringe in his hand. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to resort to methods of persuasion that might bring you around to my point of view a little more quickly."

"No. No!" Jen argued and struggled, but to no success. His size and strength were no match for her. The syringe slid easily into her arm as she continued to shake her head violently in silent protest.

She didn't know what he gave her, and he wouldn't tell. He ignored her pleas and questions while he waited for the drugs to run their course. Finally her vision clouded and her limbs got heavy. She looked around the room as though she was seeing it for the first time.

"Dr. Keller?"

"Hmm." She wasn't sure her mouth worked. Everything felt numb.

"Dr. Keller!"

"Yes."

"I need you to listen to me."

She tried to focus in on his mouth and watch each word as it came out.

"They think you are weak. You need to show then you are not. Do you understand me?

"No." She was being honest. She had no idea at all what was going on.

He wasn't surprised. He had programmed enough assets to know the beginning was very disorienting. "Dr. Keller, they don't like you. They don't want you to stay on CMO. They don't think you can handle it."

"Not true. Friends. Colleagues. Important work."

"No, not your friends. They think you are needy - needy and weak. You need to earn their respect."

"Earn their respect."

"That's right, Dr. Keller. ."

Jennifer found a burst of confidence. "No. We all have a role to play. I'm a healer. They respect that."

"They respect Carson. He's a healer they respect. You are constantly in need of help. Constantly in need of protection. Constantly in need of reassurance." His voice dripped with disdain.

She shook her head back and forth. "No. I have a place here. And friends. And Ronon."

Jarrick's was taken aback for a split second at the mention of the Setedan who was part of the expedition. If they were romantically involved it would make his job much harder. He regrouped. "It's all an illusion. They want you to leave them alone. They want to not have to listen to your incessant rambling. They want to be able to rely on you for a change."

Tears started to fall quietly down her cheeks.

"You need to distance yourself from them. You need to not seek out their company. You need to not talk to them, eat with them. You shouldn't even go where they are."

Jennifer didn't understand the point of his suggestion. "Why not?"

"Prove to them you are self-sufficient. Prove to them you are not the whiney weak little girl they think you are."

The motion of her head slowly changed direction, and she silently nodded up and down.

"You need to be stronger, Dr. Keller. Stronger mentally. Stronger emotionally. Stronger physically. Can you do that?"

She nodded her head again.

"Tell me you can do that, Dr. Keller."

"I can do that."

"Tell me how you are gong to do that, Dr. Keller."

Her shoulders began to shrug her lack of an answer when his tone turned to anger. "You are going to leave them alone, Dr. Keller. You are not going to seek them out and not burden them with your silly problems."

The tears fell faster as she nodded her head.

"Whenever you feel like you are going to reach out to one of them I want you to stop. Instead of doing something that will just lower their opinion of you, I need you to do something to make yourself stronger. Every time you see how weak you are and how week they see you as, I want you to respond with strength. Do some push ups. Go for a run. Go to the infirmary. Do something that doesn't involve them. Improve yourself before you burden them."

Jen understood his guidance. She needed to be stronger, better. Finding acceptance at the expedition was an uphill battle, but she could get there if she applied herself.

"What are you going to do tomorrow, Dr. Keller?"

"Improve myself."

"Who can help you do that?"

"No one. I need to do it alone."

"Very good, Dr. Keller."

Jarrick brought another syringe to her arm without her protest, and she sank into unconsciousness. He left her limp body at an awkward angle and headed over the desk area of the small quarters set up. Picking up a communicator on his desk he began speaking to the person he was certain was on the other end.

"Were you watching?"

"I never watch. You know I don't. Not while it's happening. I listened, though. I hadn't realized you turned into a personal trainer. Push ups? Running? Really?"

Anatol hated explaining himself to this man. "The more she works out the more drained she'll be. I need her as isolated and tired as I can get her. It's hard to accelerate the effects of the sleep deprivation and drugs unless we keep her expending more energy then she has and distance her from as many people as we can."

"She mentioned Ronon," Stanton pointed out. "That wasn't part of your intel."

Jarrick's tone was measured. "It appears she may have developed a relationship we weren't aware of."

"I don't like surprises, Anatol. They aren't what we pay you for. Do you have a plan to deal with him?"

Jarrick's anger flared briefly before he regained his composure. "She'll deal with him. Perhaps we've found our asset her first target."

"Asking a woman with no history of violence to make her first kill be her boyfriend? In eight days? Are you perhaps developing a God Complex?"

"I will not ask her, I'll tell her, and by the end of the week my voice will be the voice of god to that woman." Jarrick was defiant. He turned his back to the camera recording the session to conceal the anger written across his face. Stanton was nothing more than the money for the operation, with almost no original thought. Jarrick had the vision and the talent, and he knew it.

Still, until he found another way to bank roll the program Jarrick was tied to his current partner. He gathered all of his diplomatic skills and delivered a proper SITREP.

"Step One is about thirty percent complete. Initial indicators are positive that suggestion has been incorporated. We'll measure her reaction to me tomorrow, and use the tracker in the wristband to monitor her whereabouts throughout the day."

"Is she done for the night?"

"The suggestion is already established, but we're also trying to keep sleep to a minimum. I'll run through the scenario two or three more times tonight before I transport her back to her room."

Jarrick closed the channel. He crossed back to Jennifer and took her face in his hands. Checking her pupils, he was content with what he saw and proceeded to push another dose of drugs into Jennifer's system. She woke slowly, asking where she was, and the scene played out again. And again.

IOA DELEGATION VISIT DAY 2

Jennifer was in disbelief when the alarm clock went off. It couldn't be morning already but both her clock and her new IOA issued super-duper-in-case-of-emergency-communicator/watch-thing-a-ma-bob said morning had arrived. She showered, grabbed breakfast, and made it just in time to the CPR class she was giving.

She had a few hours before her shift, and found herself restless. She still couldn't understand the feeling the night had flown by her, and the total lack of rest that had accompanied it.

The IOA visit had her tense, no question. Maybe some of Teyla's meditation techniques would help her relax.

_You are not going to seek them out and not burden them with your silly problems._

The voice in her head made her think better of it. The visit was stressful for everyone. There was no point in adding to the already significant demands on Teyla's time.

_Do some push ups. Go for a run. Go to the infirmary. Do something that doesn't involve them. Improve yourself before you burden them_

Jen changed into something more suitable for exercise, and found herself heading out onto the pier. She stopped herself after a few paces.

When was the last time she had gone running? She was already tired, stressed, and busy from the visit. How could losing more time to this help her cope better with her day? She turned back to face the city, when she heard the voice again.

_Do some push ups. Go for a run. Go to the infirmary. Improve yourself._

Maybe getting away from the stress of the visit was exactly what she needed after all.

Jennifer turned back to her original course, the length of the pier stretched before her, and set out on a long run hoping it would clear her mind.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:**__ Thanks so much to those of you are reviewing. It's been a great introduction to the community. I was a little nervous at first, but you have all been very gracious. On with the show…_

Chapter 3

IOA DELEGATION VISIT DAY 3

Jennifer walked past the room Evan was in for the third time in thirty minutes, noting him still involved in conversation. She made a ten minute loop around the hallways and circled back for the fourth pass, only to find him leaning in the doorframe waiting for her.

"Something I can do for you, Doc?"

She never thought she was sneaky, but was hoping she wasn't quite so blatant. "That obvious, huh?"

"Well, let's just say you should leave the covert operations to us professionals," he said with a smile. "Now, what did you need?"

Jennifer took a few small tentative steps down the hall silently beckoning him away from the room and his team. He followed, falling into stride beside her. "I have a favor to ask."

"Shoot," he said without hesitation.

"Exactly," she answered.

He was quiet for a minute waiting for her to finish, eventually deciding to clarify. "Am I supposed to know what the favor is yet?"

"It comes in two parts. I was hoping you would teach me something, and maybe you would help me keep it quiet."

"I am the picture of discretion," he promised.

Jennifer kept walking. It took no more than a few minutes to reach her destination. When they stopped in front of the firing range, she just stood by the door.

Evan waited for her to continue on her path, never thinking for a minute this would be her objective. They exchanged looks until finally it dawned on him.

"Aww, shoot." Evan had a feeling if Sheppard or Ronon were in the city instead of off-world he wouldn't have found himself in this predicament. He could feel an unfortunate sparring session coming his way if either of them found out.

"Exactly."

"Maybe it would be better if you asked Shep or Ronon, you know. You're off-world with them more often then anyone, maybe they have a better idea of what you might need." He was trying to get out of it.

She heard the explanation in her head: _It's been a long time since you completed basic firearm qualifications. Basic hasn't been enough in the Pegasus Galaxy. You want to be better prepared. Sheppard and Dex think you should, but you think Lorne would be a better teacher. You want it to be a surprise._

"Just been a long time since I did my quals. I need to be better prepared with the way my luck is going off-world. Sheppard and Dex have been on me about doing some training, but I just think you'd be a better teacher."

"No denying I am the superior instructor." Evan was a sentence into a joke about him besting the Colonel and Ronon in something when he played back her last sentence in his head. "Wait. Did you just call Ronon 'Dex'? Don't ever think I have heard you do that."

"Did I? Hadn't noticed."

Evan gave her a puzzled look. Something seemed off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He thought about the request, though, and in truth, she could probably use the training.

"And nothing is wrong, right, Doc? Just some training? You aren't having any trouble?"

She thought about his question, but the answer was already playing in her head. _Its been a long time since you completed basic firearm qualifications. Basic hasn't been enough in the Pegasus Galaxy. You want to be better prepared. Sheppard and Dex think you should, but you think Lorne would be a better teacher. You want it to be a surprise._

"I just want to be better prepared, and I want it to be a surprise." Jen looked with a pleading face. She finally gave in and added a pathetically desperate "please" for comic effect.

Once Evan started laughing she knew she had him. He opened the door to the armory and held it opened as he beckoned her in.

"And you'll keep it just between us?"

"I wouldn't worry too much about that, Doc. Ronon finds out and I'm in much more danger than you."

IOA DELEGATION VISIT DAY 4

Sheppard was looking for Jen. He tried catching her in the mess, but hadn't seen her there in two days of trying. Their briefing schedules were different as they were assigned different IOA Representatives to baby-sit. On top of that, his need to keep Ronon out of the IOAs line of site put his team off world a lot, so finding her wasn't as easy as it sounded. John could have used the communicator, but he was asking a favor, so he wanted to surprise her and rely more on personality than technology.

When he finally tracked her down it was in a most unexpected place. He and Teyla were running and crossed paths with the Doctor, winded, making her way back to the main complex.

"Ahh, Dr. Keller. Just the doctor I'm looking for."

"Uh oh. I don't like the sound of that," she said with a laugh.

"I needed to ask a favor. Minor favor. Hardly a favor."

She put her hands on her knees to catch her breath while she encouraged him to go on with hand gesture and a breathy "Out with it."

"Corporal Jennings."

"Brown hair, two broken fingers, severe respiratory infection?'

"Yes, that very one." John gave his most charming smile.

"What about him? Is he ok?"

"Oh yeah. Doing fine. Better than fine. Great, even. That's actually the favor. He seems to be at 100% and Lorne could use him on the mission tonight to MDX-423. I was going to see if I could get you to sign off on his duty status."

Jennifer's expression changed immediately. She stood up straight. She looked with frustration at John.

_They don't take you seriously. They think they can run over you. That you are there for their convenience. They are only interested in your opinion if it helps their cause, but they don't want you to stand up to them. You need to show them your competence. You need to demonstrate your authority. Assert yourself._

"Based on your years of medical experience?" There was an edge to her tone he wasn't used to.

"Doc, he seems fine." He tried to be conciliatory.

"He isn't. Another week of restricted duty and everything will work itself out. Until then, he stays on Atlantis."

"It's a trading mission. I need another body. He's a perfect fit."

"Find another body." Jen's eyes turned cold in anger.

Teyla was keenly aware of the change in Jennifer's demeanor. She kept her tone even as she tried to mitigate some of the damage of John's approach.

"Perhaps if you could tell the Colonel a little more about the Corporal's condition he would better understand your concerns."

"He doesn't need to understand, he needs to comply." Sheppard's reaction to her words were clear as his head snapped into position staring right at her. Jen looked back into his glare. "Corporal Jennings stays where he is."

"Light escort support. It's a cakewalk." He was in disbelief.

"I'm certain if the mission was to walk to the village, complete the trade and be done that he would be fine. But when was the last time a mission went like that?"

"The last time you weren't on one." John was immediately sorry – partly because he hadn't meant to be mean, but also because he knew it wasn't getting him any closer to his favor.

The anger on her face turned to hurt in an instant. She faced Teyla and with as calm a tone as she could deliver, provided her final assessment. "Corporal Jennings has an infection in his lungs severely restricting his intake of oxygen and making him more susceptible to external factors. As I discussed with Major Lorne this morning, Jennings does not currently have the lung capacity for extended physical exertion."

The explanation softened her tone, as it always did. Jennifer was full of compassion and kindness when she spoke of someone's condition – it was her way. She had almost settled into a friendly tone when she heard the voice in her head again.

_You need to show them your competence. You need to demonstrate your authority. Assert yourself._

Jennifer stepped into the space between her and John. "Lay terms: if he had to run from the village to the gate, he couldn't, and if you were relying on him to keep up or help another who might be wounded, he couldn't. In his current state he is a risk to himself and to the team."

John met that challenge as he always did – head on. He closed the last step between them. "Is that so, Dr. Keller?"

"It is, Colonel. Find another body."

Jen held Sheppard's eyes, but there were no more words.

It took only a few seconds for her expression to change again. He breathing quickened, and not from the recent exercise. She blinked rapidly, and began looking to the side, avoiding his stare.

She spun and took a few steps back towards the main building, stopping just paces into her journey. She had never spoken to a member of the team that way in her entire tenure. She was filled with regret, and turned back to offer an apology. She heard the voice in her head once more.

_Every time you see how weak you are and how weak they see you as - respond with strength. Do some push ups. Go for a run. Do something that doesn't involve them._

Without a word Jen turned back out towards the path she had just come back from and took off again.

John's anger turned to concern. The CMOs behavior was not at all what he had come to expect in his time working with her. Then he took note of her direction and questioned Teyla.

"Wasn't she on her way back in when we ran into her?"

"She was."

"Does the Doc seem a little turned around today?"

"She does not entirely seem herself." There was worry in Teyla's voice as she watched the Doctor make her way away from the heart of the city at a steady pace.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**_: You guys have been great! Thanks for all of you who added the story to your alert subscriptions. I intend to keep the chapters coming at a pretty good pace. Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading._

The Will of Jennifer Keller Chapter 4

IOA DELEGATION VISIT DAY 5

Ronon returned from an off-world trip and made his way to the mess. Any other week his first stop would have been the infirmary, but he was keenly aware Jennifer was completely focused on the IOA visit.

She had been a ghost all week – no where to be found, and if sighted, no more than a shadow.

Instead of finding Jennifer, Ronon grabbed a tray of food and found a seat with John and Teyla. While Jen wasn't there in person, she was all too present in the conversation. There was an uneasiness when his friends spoke of her - an underlying concern in their voices as they asked if he'd seen her. They were evasive, but the intent was clear: they were worried, and now, so was he. He weighed respecting her space against his growing need to know she was OK.

His worry won out.

Ronon sought her out, approaching cautiously. It took more than one pass to find her alone. He figured the stress from the IOA visit was the main source of her anxiety and didn't want to make it any worse by interrupting a meeting or demonstration.

When he finally caught her, Jen was standing in the doorway of her office looking for something. Her head was tilted to the left and her left arm was crossed awkwardly in front, reaching over shoulder to rub her neck. She searched the small room with her eyes.

He closed to her slowly, cognizant she had no idea he was there - not wanting to startle her.

Five short days without her was nothing in the larger scheme of things, but it was a lifetime to his senses, each of them coming to life with a need for some part of her. His eyes took in the sight of her, every curve of her body. He registered the scent of her shampoo in the air. Ronon touched one hand to her waist, the other replacing hers on her neck with more strength and a better angle - massaging with a firm hand, feeling her soft skin and tight muscles beneath his fingers. The reward for his efforts was the sound of his name on her lips accompanied by a groan that made his head spin.

His body craved more. He imagined a time when he could turn her toward him and taste a kiss from her lips. Not yet, but soon. The image distracted him, brought back to the moment only by a sound from Jennifer that sounded more like pain than relief. His hands froze in place.

"Are you injured, Jen?"

She heard the answer before she said it._ You didn't sleep well last night, Dr. Keller. Tossed and turned for no good reason. Your neck is stiff and your shoulder hurts because you slept on it funny. No need to have it looked at. You are sure you will be fine._

"No. Just slept on it funny, I think." She accepted his touch and dismissed his concern.

"It doesn't seem funny. Has it been looked at it?"

"Yes, by the CMO actually," she said making her own little joke.

He exhaled his rejection of her answer. She was stubborn. Had their roles been reversed she would insist he seek care.

She felt his objection and countered. "I'm sure it will be fine."

Ronon tried to be the voice of reason. "You're working yourself too hard this week. You go above and beyond every day. Above and beyond of above and beyond is too far."

She turned to look at him. "This visit is important. Not just to me, to the whole expedition. Everything has to go right."

Ronon didn't answer her. He didn't want to argue. He just took in the sight of her. Tired. Standing awkwardly. Right arm close to her body and rigid. Eyes cloudy and bloodshot.

"Three more days," she said quietly. "Seventy-two hours. I can do anything for seventy-two hours."

He nodded, "I am sure you can."

IOA DELEGATION VISIT NIGHT 5

Jarrick checked Jennifer's pupils, dropping her head back to its position with her chin to her chest. He was frustrated, but staying on point. He looked at his communicator on his desk and saw a green light flash. Stanton wanted to talk to him. He was angry enough without being interfered with.

Relenting, Jarrick walked across the room to pick up the device and stand directly in front of the camera.

"I'm clearly in the middle of something. Can we do this later?"

"No," the older man replied sternly. "We'll do it now. This is over. You are no where with her, and have no hope of pulling this off. All you are doing is risking exposing the program."

"I have her."

"You have nothing. She hit you! I've seen you do this to eighteen others before her. Have any of them ever taken a swing at you?"

Jarrick knew the weasel was watching even though he claimed to be above it. Stanton was drawn to the exhilaration of breaking someone's will as much as Jarrick. Of course, it was Jarrick's luck that Stanton was watching at the exact moment that he and Jennifer argued.

The slap had actually been the first act of true defiance he has seen all week. Resistance, yes, it came with the territory, but true defiance was unexpected. Jarrick had been lulled into a false sense of progress right up until he felt the sting. He thought about tying her up, but results when subjects were bound were much more unpredictable. They were more distrustful of their handlers if they woke up with the hands tied to a chair. There was a certain sense in it, if he thought about it.

Stanton took Jarrick's silence as vindication. "A little surprised you didn't swing back."

"That isn't the way the plan works."

"The plan isn't working at all. You won't get her there in time. We need to cut our losses."

Jarrick could already taste victory when he looked at Jennifer's face. He would not be undone by this woman. "The final session is going to be more intense than you can imagine. We have plenty of time…"

"No," Stanton yelled. "I need actual proof this is working before I sign-off on tomorrow's session. "

"The program is precise. Step …"

"Not another word about steps and phases. You've gotten her to what? Go running? Get certified in something she's already trained to do? Yell at someone who frustrated her, and give an easy explanation for an injury you gave her while she was sleeping? I need more than that."

"What the hell do you want?"

"Mark that pretty face of hers and make her blame it on someone else. Make her experience it, then lie to her friends, even if they doubt her. Then I'll believe that you are getting somewhere."

Jarrick sneered at the second-guessing, but he was out of options. He would provide Stanton with a good-faith proof progress, or Stanton would order Jennifer killed before the final chapter could begin.

"Understood." Jarrick was desperate to move onto the last phase, and tried to lay the groundwork for an out in the event she didn't pass the test. "You know she is so isolated form her friends right now they may not see it."

Stanton's response was vague and ominous. "I'll see that they do."


	5. Chapter 5

The Will of Jennifer Keller Chapter 5

IOA DELEGATION VISIT DAY 6

Mr. Woolsey walked a determined pace through the hall. He had a weekly pattern to ensure he touched base with department heads on their own turf regularly. There was more to leadership than sitting in his office reading reports.

On this particular day he was on his way to stop in on the Chief Medical Officer. The IOA had been exceptionally complimentary about her participation in their visit.

Dr. Keller was stepping out of the medlab when Woolsey arrived.

"Ah, Dr. Keller. Just the person I was looking for."

Jen chuckled to herself. Woolsey liked to believe his visits were a spontaneous interest in some part of the expedition, but Jennifer was a smart woman. His 'spontaneous' visits happened at the exact same time on the same day every week. It was sweet, though, his attempt to reach out.

"Mr. Woolsey. What a surprise to see you here. Everything alright, I hope?"

"Oh yes, everything is fine. Better then fine, actually. The IOA visit is going very well. You've been a large part of the success so far. I wanted to say thank you."

"Glad I could be of assistance." Jennifer accepted his thanks.

"Perhaps they would enjoy a trip off-world with you, to see you with some of the people of Pegasus and the impact you are having."

"They specifically asked I not go off world while they're here."

"I am aware, but I just thought it might help demonstrate the good of the mission."

"If they decide to go I'm happy to accompany them. Although, you probably should tell them about the betting pool for what disaster is going to befall my next trip. The pot is getting pretty big – they may want in on the action."

"Ahh, yes." Woolsey thought better of his idea. "You do have a certain magnetic quality where complications are concerned."

Woolsey noticed a small discoloration along his CMO's jaw line - muted under what little makeup Jennifer Keller used as part of her normal routine, but there none the less. He thought back to their morning briefing the day before and didn't remember it being there. This was definitely a bruise. His face flashed a quizzical look.

Jennifer responded to his expression. "Was there something else, Mr. Woolsey?"

"Were you injured recently, Dr. Keller?"

"No, sir. I have been accident-free for some time," she answered with more than a little pride.

"Yes, of course, but the bruise …" he pointed awkwardly.

"Oh, that." Jen touched her finger to it gently.

_It was your own doing. You went to learn a few new moves. You sparred with one of the Marines. You lost your concentration. You didn't see the hit coming. He thought you did. It was all a mistake._

"That's nothing. A lesson learned in sparring about focus and concentration," she explained.

"If you're sure you are fine."

Mr. Woolsey went to take his leave, but was interrupted by Representative Stanton making his greetings to the two in the hall. They exchanged pleasantries, and Jennifer politely took her leave to attend to her schedule.

After a brief discussion, Mr. Woolsey continued on his path, only to be called back by the IOA rep.

"One last thing, Mr. Woolsey. Was that a bruise on Dr. Keller's face."

"A very minor one, yes."

"I didn't see it earlier in the week. Has she been injured in some way?"

"Oh no – nothing like that. Dr. Keller takes self-defense training and took an inadvertent blow yesterday. She assures me she is fine."

"It seems like an odd use of her talent."

Woolsey set to respond, but Stanton let his observation stand as his goodbye and made his way down the corridor.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The staff meeting was quickly coming to a close. Woolsey was grateful the universe had decided to remain under control for the six days the IOA delegation had already spent camped in his city, and sent out a silent request for two more days of good fortune. As he made his way to the door of the conference room he casually mentioned his last agenda item of the day.

"One more thing. I understand the sparring and training that takes place nightly in the gym is a source of vital teaching and morale. That said, I need to ask we restrict those activities to military personnel for the duration of the IOA visit."

John tried to diplomatically explain the benefits of the training. "The gym is open access to all expedition personnel. We kinda check rank and title at the door to promote a more … free exchange… of technique and ideas."

Woolsey didn't need a lesson on team morale. "Which is code for you telling me Atlantis feels like a small place without ways to settling differences and working off excess energy. All of which is fine. I trust you to manage those interactions to the best possible outcome for the welfare of the mission. So we understand each other?"

"Yes. Well. No. Not entirely." John wasn't aware of any issues that might have brought this up. He scanned the table and saw the same confused look from Ronon, and Teyla. "Is there a problem?"

"I was asked a question from the IOA delegation today about the bruise Dr. Keller got during her training. They are concerned it isn't the best use of her talent and expertise."

Ronon stiffened at the words.

"Dr. Keller?" Teyla asked, surprised.

"We all know with her …luck… some basic self defense training is a good idea, but if we could dial it all down until the IOA delegation leaves..." Woolsey left the comment in the air.

John saw no one else in the room was likely to answer. "Absolutely. Dial it down. Understood."

"Thank you." Woolsey made his way out of the room.

Ronon pushed back from the table.

"Ronon, have you been training with Jen this week?" Teyla asked.

His glare lasted a split second and then he was gone.

John reviewed the possibilities. "So either he hurt Jen by mistake and she hid it from him and he's pissed, or someone else hurt Jen and she hid it from him and he's pissed."

"Have you ever known Ronon to injure someone by mistake?" Teyla asked.

"Shit." John's hand went for his communicator. "Keller, this is Sheppard."

"Go ahead, Colonel."

"Doc, you have incoming…"


	6. Chapter 6

The Will of Jennifer Keller Chapter 6

Jennifer stepped into the hall after Sheppard's warning that Ronon was inbound, not wanting to have a scene in the infirmary. She got all she was expecting and more as he made his way down the hall. He was a force of nature when he walked with that much purpose.

He stood in front of her, and with no context or lead in just asked the question. "What happened?" It was actually more of a demand than a question.

"And good afternoon to you, too." She smiled, rolling her eyes at his predictable level of worry.

"Cute. What happened?" He didn't bother to seem amused with her response.

"Nothing happened."

"Doesn't look like nothing." He angled her face carefully with gentle hands to see the bruise more clearly. Even the light pressure caused a wince she tried to hide.

He could see it hurt.

She could see he was angry.

"It's really nothing, Ronon."

"Then just tell me."

"Will you listen and not get mad?"

"Depends on what you say."

"Ronon!"

"I will listen," he relented.

_It was your own doing. You went to learn a few new moves. You sparred with one of the Marines. You lost your concentration. You didn't see the hit coming. He thought you did. It was all a mistake._

"Sparring," she said concisely.

"You were sparring?" He almost didn't believe the answer.

She nodded her head.

"With who?"

She went to answer the question and came to a sudden stop, her mouth already open to speak when she realized she had no words to answer the inquiry. She didn't know who – didn't remember. How could she not remember?

She covered with a diversion. "It doesn't matter who."

Ronon was intent on being answered. "It matters to me."

She had to remember. She had to think. _It was your own doing. You went to learn a few new moves. You sparred with one of the Marines. You lost your concentration. You didn't see the hit coming. He thought you did. It was all a mistake._

"It was my own doing. I was trying to learn a move or two that maybe we hadn't covered – thought I would surprise you next time." She smiled to diffuse his tension, but was unsuccessful.

"You didn't hit yourself, little one. Who was it?"

"One of the Marines was helping me. I got distracted. I didn't see the hit, and he thought I did. It was a silly accident. He was trying to train…"

Ronon's anger boiled briefly to the surface. "You won't learn anything from a man without enough discipline to control himself."

"He wasn't out of control. It was just a mistake."

"Maybe _he_ could use a little more training, so such _mistakes_ don't happen in the future. I could help him with that."

Jen still couldn't remember who 'he' was. "I don't think so."

"For the good of the expedition."

"No."

Ronon was determined. "Is he on Sheppard's team?"

"No."

"Lorne's?"

"Enough," she said combating his persistence. "I'm fine. Lesson learned. No classes until you are around to teach them."

He stepped in to her personal space, until he was inches from her. "Good." In sight of the infirmary with people nearby there wasn't much farther the conversation could go. His voice was serious - fierce with emotion as he whispered to her. "I won't tolerate someone being careless with you."

She grabbed onto him. She hadn't intended to, just couldn't bear to lose the closeness. He was concerned for her, and the more she thought about it the more she thought he might be right.

What had she done last night? Dinner? No time. She worked through dinner and went running. She stopped by the infirmary to check on a patient and to switch the duty roster because of a staff member falling ill. She ran by the mess late and grabbed some coffee. She went back to her room. She went to sleep.

She buried her confusion into his chest as she held close to his strength.

Then she heard the words in her head again. _It was your own doing. You went to learn a few new moves. You sparred with one of the Marines. You lost your concentration. You didn't see the hit coming. He thought you did. It was all a mistake._

She had said the words like they were her own, but they felt like someone else's.

She felt him touch his hand to his communicator. "On my way."

He looked down at her face. He had been angry when he got there, and while that had dissipated it was replaced with a new level of concern. "Sheppard is starting the mission briefing. He seems to think I need to be there."

"It's supposed to help you prepare."

"It gives me a chance to catch one last nap before we go."

"Don't tell that to Sheppard."

He stepped away and she couldn't help but call out to him. "Gone for two days, right?"

"I am guessing that's part of the briefing, but yeah – that's what's on the schedule."

She hesitated. She just didn't want him to go. "Be careful," was all she got out.

"You, too," he said, and it hung ominously in the space between them as he made his way down the hall.


	7. Chapter 7

The Will of Jennifer Keller Chapter 7

Sheppard's mission briefing seemed longer than was required. Go. Drop of supplies. Barter for goods. Be friendly. Don't fight with the locals. Come back. Shoot something only if you absolutely have to.

Ronon heard Sheppard's words, but couldn't take his focus off Lorne. Jen said it hadn't been one of Sheppard's men who had sparred with her, but she didn't answer when Ronon asked about Lorne's team.

When the Colonel was finished, Ronon caught up to Lorne in the hallway.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Lorne shook his head like he had just been caught doing something he knew better than to try. "How did you even find out?"

"She could have been hurt!"

Lorne got defensive. "Now, wait. I train people on firearms all the time. It's a protected range with protective gear. She wasn't in any danger."

Ronon's head tilted to the side slightly. "What are you talking about?"

Lorne's head motion mirrored the Satedan. "What are you talking about?" Lorne was no longer following the conversation.

"I am talking about you letting her spar with your Marines last night in the gym."

Lorne's hands waved in front of him to accentuate his denial. "Noooo, no, no. She wasn't sparring last night. I was in the gym doing self defense courses and sparring drills all night. Jen never even stuck her head in."

"She has a bruise on her face she said came from sparring with a Marine."

"Must be a misunderstanding, man, 'cause I was there all night, and she wasn't. Also, for the record, as dumb as Marines might be – there isn't one of my guys who's dumb enough to put your woman on the mat. Taking life in their own hands - they know that."

"My woman?" Ronon was caught by surprise by Evan's assumption.

"Again, dumb – not that dumb. Everyone can read the writing on that wall," Lorne responded. His smile at his own small joke was short-lived, though, when he started to think about the implications of Ronon's words. "Do you really think someone hit her? Maybe it was nothing - an accident."

"If that were the case, she wouldn't have lied."

"What are you going to do?" Evan knew better than to believe that Ronan would let anyone else handle the issue.

"Find out what the hell is going on." Ronon took two steps and then turned back to Lorne. "Did you say firearm training?"

Lorne figured that was the least of everyone's concern now. "She re-upped her light arms cert two days ago. She asked me not to tell anyone -that is was a surprise. I figured it couldn't hurt to help."

Ronon had nothing to say. He didn't know why she would have done it at all, much less in secret. Not liking the possibilities in his head, he set himself on a quick course for the infirmary. He had a feeling in his gut something was very wrong, and wanted answers.

He was a minute from the medlab when he heard the page for a medical team to the Gate Room. He knew what that meant. Someone was injured, and someone needed her to be the CMO. He gave it an hour and wandered by, but Marie told him she was in surgery and would be for some time.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jennifer removed her surgical mask. The procedure had taken longer than anticipated; time consuming complications had made a two hour operation a four hour operation. She left instructions with the medical team and decided to stretch her legs.

Walking off the tension of the surgery, she found herself at the Gate Room just in time to see Ronon and the team off. She crossed to be closer, remembering that the only moment of the day that brought her comfort was the moment spent in his arms. She looked to him, but saw only harsh eyes looking back, stopping her in her tracks.

Jen questioned him with her expression, needing little more then her furrowed brow to draw a response. He stepped to where she stood and as the room busied itself with final preparations, he discreetly ran the back of his fingers across the bruise on her face.

"You were not honest about this. Tell me what's going on, Jennifer."

She radiated confusion. Her eyes darted around the room, and Ronon took hold of her elbow to bring her attention back to him. "I need to know what's going on. Will you be safe while Sheppard and I are off-world?"

Jennifer just nodded her head. Safe from what, she wasn't sure.

"We'll be gone forty-eight hours, then I need the whole story."

He stepped backwards, maintaining the contact with her as long as he could. When his finger left her skin he turned and walked through the event horizon.

He didn't look back.

It was Sheppard who looked from Lorne to Jen and made it clear that the junior officer had a mission to complete until Ronon got back. Lorne would be looking after Jen.

She didn't move, so Evan went to her. "You OK, Doc?"

She shook her head to break her chain of thought. "Yeah, just tired."

"Are you on rotation tonight?"

"No. Off for sixty blissful hours straight."

"Thinking of catching some shut eye?" She nodded her response, but said nothing, so Evan continued. "Sounds like a good idea. How about I walk you back to your quarters?"

A tear formed in Jen's eye. Overtired. Exhausted. And Ronon had told her she was lying. Her shoulder hurt. Her jaw hurt. Four hours in surgery. The week was crashing in on her all at one time. The more her head spun the more upset she got.

She didn't bother to hide her tears when she looked up at Evan and nodded her head again. He guided her from the room.

They walked in silence the entire trip. As she opened the door she felt uneasy, and Lorne could sense it. She wasn't just sad, she was anxious. There was more to this then a harsh word from Ronon.

"Mind if I take a look around? Need to make sure the CMO has been brought safely to her quarters," Lorne said as gallantly as he could.

"Nah," she said quietly. "Everything's fine."

"If you're sure, Doc."

How could she explain it? She didn't really know what was wrong. Maybe she was just working herself too hard – carrying too much stress about the visit. She couldn't remember a restful night sleep or a good meal in a week.

There was just a feeling; an uneasy, bad feeling. Certainly nothing Evan could look around and find.

She just wanted to go to sleep. "Yeah, Evan. I'm sure."

"Then have a good evening."

Evan waited for the door to close behind him before he tapped his communicator. "Masterson, this is Lorne. I need you to quietly grab Peters and come up to Dr. Keller's quarters. And wear your comfortable combat boots. It's sentry duty and you have the first shift."


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N:**__ You guys have been great! Appreciate all the feedback and encouragement. This one may make you feel like you missed a step between where the last one left off and this one begins, but you didn't. Hang in there with me. All will be revealed in time. - Kalli_

The Will of Jennifer Keller Chapter 8

The first thing Jennifer became aware of was the pain. Everywhere. Pain and clouded vision. Increased heart rate. Jagged breathing. Did she mention the pain? And the taste of … what was that … adrenaline? And blood? Then Jarrick's voice.

"Jennifer, I know you are upset, but I need you to listen to me. You need to be ready. Ronon is coming back to finish the job. When you see him you need to be ready to defend yourself."

"What happened to me?"

"Jennifer, you came to me and told me you had been attacked. You asked for my help. You were afraid to go to people who know Ronon incase they might tell him where you are. You wanted to know that you would be protected."

Ribs. Definitely something wrong with her ribs. And her face. Her eye was swelling shut. She felt blood drying on her cheek. "I need to go to the medlab." She tried to stand up but was in no condition to keep her balance yet. Must also have taken a blow to the head. But how?

Jarrick steadied her exerted enough pressure to put her back down in the chair. "Jennifer, what if Ronon is waiting for you?"

"Thank God, is Ronon back?" Tears of relief momentarily broke through the confusion.

"Jennifer, Ronon hurt you."

He head shook - slowly at first and then as fast as the pain would let it. "No. Ronon? What about Ronon?"

"You came in here and told me what happened. He got back from his mission tonight. He came to your room to find you. He accused you of cheating on him. He was enraged. You had never seen him like that before. He snapped. He attacked you. He stormed out of your room. You have no idea where he is. You are afraid."

"Never afraid of Ronon. Ronon would never – could never."

"Violence from people we care about is never easy. You know he's capable of it, though, don't you. You've seen it. There are so many dark sides to him."

Jennifer's mind flashed to the dark brooding soul she met when she arrived. His year's as a Runner had made the world a black or white place for Ronon, and violence was his answer to so many things. But she had felt the tender side of his touch, and she knew there were rays of light in his soul that he just didn't share with many. He would never hurt her; he wasn't even on Atlantis.

"Ronon doesn't get back until the day after tomorrow. He isn't here."

"No, Jennifer. He returned this evening. He came to your room to find you. He accused you of cheating on him. He was enraged. You had never seen him like that before. He snapped. He attacked you. He stormed out of your room. You have no idea where he is. You are afraid."

"I'm so tired. I just need clear my head. I need to see Ronon."

"Ronon hurt you, Jennifer. Ronon did this to you. He is a danger to you and to the rest of the expedition. You have to be ready to defend yourself."

Jen couldn't focus. The pain was getting worse. Her hand went for her communicator and she realized it wasn't there. "I need to get to the medlab. Can you help me get there?"

"I am a doctor. I will take a look until we sort out what you are going to do next. He could be there waiting for you. You are in no condition for another confrontation. He could kill you this time."

"That can't be what happened. If I could just .." Her attempt to stand was again unsuccessful. Instead of forcing her back down, this time Jarrick walked her toward the cot on the far side of the room.

"You need to lay down. Let me take a look at your injuries. Let's see how you are doing and we will go from there."

Jen was in no position to protest. She offered no resistance to Jarrick's directions, and no sooner had he put her head down on the pillow then she was out cold.

Jarrick's smile was pure evil as he looked at her lying there. With no regard for the injuries he had already caused, he roughly lifted the unconscious woman and carried her back to the chair on the opposite side of his makeshift desk. He reached under the desk and pulled out a syringe. He jabbed it into her thigh and emptied it into her system. He threw the syringe back under the desk quickly and Jen woke in a complete panic.

"…horrible that you had to go through something like that. Just breath Dr. Keller. You did the right thing coming here and telling me the whole story. You need to be prepared to defend yourself."

Jen was hyperventilating. Her heart was pounding at an incredible rate. She reached for her communicator and found it missing.

Jarrick placed a hand on the side of her face. "You are going into shock, Dr. Keller. I need you to focus on me and my voice. I need you to breathe. Slow and steady. You are safe here. Ronon can't hurt you here."

"Ronon?"

"No. Ronon won't find you here. You are safe."

"Safe from Ronon?"

"Yes, but not for long. He'll find you. The next time you see him you need to be prepared to defend yourself. You can't let him do this to you again - can't give him that chance. No matter what he does or says, the next time he walks into the room, you will give him no warning. You will just pull the trigger."

"Ronon wouldn't .."

"He did, Dr. Keller, and I am so sorry. But you can stop him."

She blinked over and over to clear her mind and her vision. She tried to take an inventory of her body. She was wearing her uniform. The jacket was gone, and her arms were covered in bruises still getting more vibrantly colored as she watched them. The colors transfixed her.

"Lie down for a minute while we get you some help." He guided her to the bed. She put her head down on the pillow and passed out.

Jarrick stabbed another syringe into Jen's thigh. "The night is just beginning." He set his watch for two hours and sat in the chair at his desk. He placed her communicator in his ear to monitor if anyone was looking for her.

Then he picked up his own communicator.

"I assume you are there?" Jarrick asked of his unseen partner.

"You know I am," Stanton replied. "SITREP?"

"Proceeding according to plan. While unconscious Dr. Keller was giving multiple injuries consistent with a significant and violent attack. With no memory of the event, I've created one for her placing blame on Dex. We will pull her in and out of consciousness for the next 48 hours, retelling the story and pushing her to take action against Dex."

"How is she responding?"

"She's on schedule. We have plenty of time. She will be ready to kill him when he gets back."

"And if this doesn't work?"

"After her next confrontation with Ronon she will either kill him or kill herself. The Delegation will already be gone when the final scene plays out."

"Just get it done. Out."

Jarrick put the communicator down and crossed the room to stand over Jennifer's helpless form. He shook his head slowly. "So inviting." He ran his fingers lightly over the contours of her broken body. "I certainly hope this works out, Jennifer. You and I could have a lot of fun."

He hoisted her into his arms, and from his arms back to the chair by the desk, grabbing another syringe from under his desk.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N:**__ Took more words than expected to get through this part. Next chapter I promise you will get to see some other faces _

The Will of Jennifer Keller Chapter 9

Jarrick frowned. Jennifer's vitals were unstable. He reduced the dosage of medication and the frequency with which it was administered, but it was throwing off his timing.

This kind of work was more of an exact science than most would imagine: specific drugs at specific levels and specific intervals. Throwing off the pattern, even the slightest amount, lowered the probability of success. Too much and she could have a heart attack, to little and she could be unreceptive; to frequently and she might have a breakdown, to far apart and she could slip in and out of the compartments he had worked so hard to create in her head.

He may have been ambitions to believe he could compress the schedule without jeopardizing effectiveness. Still, he had plenty of time – he had done unimaginable damage to fragile minds in less time before.

Jarrick administered the injection that began the ninth round of 'persuasion.' The dosage was less then he wanted, and was forty minutes later then he planned. He had to bring her out of it more slowly. No panic this time - more like someone waking up from anesthesia. His voice was slow and steady. He could have told her anything for the first ten minutes she was so incoherent. When she finally spoke she was calmer than she had been the other times.

"Where am I?" Jen's voice was coarse and groggy as she looked up at Jarrick from the bed.

"In my office."

"Why?"

"You came to me because you needed a doctor and didn't know where else to go. You didn't know who to trust. Do you remember what happened?"

Jen's hand instinctively went for her communicator, only to find it gone.

Jarrick explained away its absence. "You didn't have it with you when you arrived, Dr. Keller. I'm sorry. I didn't want to bring anyone here that would make you uncomfortable, so I waited until you were awake."

Jennifer tried to sit up. The pain was excruciating.

"Stay where you are Dr. Keller. Ronon inflicted significant injuries. You need to go to a proper medical facility, but not until we are sure you are out of danger."

Jen looked around the room. Dr. Jarrick - she knew him. He was IOA. That didn't inspire trust. He said she came to his office but she didn't remember ever being there before. She didn't know he had an office. How did she know where to find him? Why would she have come to him for help? Did he say Ronon has had done something to hurt her?

She needed to buy time.

"Water?"

"Of course, Dr. Keller." Jarrack stepped into the small bathroom and ran some water for her.

She sat up slowly on the side of the bed, pushing past the pain. Surveying the room from her new vantage point she looked for anything that would make sense, but it all just gave her more questions. The room was plain, bare even. Table, chairs, desk, nightstand, bed, bathroom - furniture but nothing personal. A laptop and files on his desk.

There was a piece of paper on the floor that caught her attention - a picture.

A picture that looked a lot like the photo from her identification badge.

A stack of syringes and drug vials under the desk.

A partially closed nightstand drawer holding more syringes with preloaded medication dosages.

She looked up trying to figure out what it all meant when she saw the final piece of the puzzle. The communicator Jarrick just told her she didn't have with her was sitting on the edge of his desk.

Every nerve ending in her body was alert.

The Atlantis team always told her to trust her instincts – if she was afraid it was probably for a good reason and she needed to respect it. It was the gift of fear. She went way past fear to terrified in the twenty seconds it took Jarrick to get some water. Her mind, clouded as it was, formulated a plan.

Jarrick returned and handed her the glass, watching as she cautiously took small sips. He still couldn't read the lack of questions. She could still be too drugged for any of it to make sense or she may have assimilated the story of her attack by Ronon and had no questions because that memory was now her own. He turned to grab the chair by the desk and heard the glass he just handed her shatter as it hit the ground. By the time he spun back to she was already apologizing.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just… I can't believe this is happening."

Jarrick let his guard down just enough to savor the first hint of victory. He got down on one knee in front of her, bending over to pick up the small shards of glass.

"You can't think of it that way," he offered sympathetically. "What you have been through was traumatic. To have a friend hurt you so completely …"

That was when he felt the syringe plunge into his back. He looked up at her for a split second and lashed out with a glass edge in his hand, but the drugs had taken him before it inflicted any significant damage. He collapsed on the floor unceremoniously.

Run. That was the only thought in her head. If only her body was in agreement. The sheer pain of standing up combined with an acute shortness of breath had her falter in her very first step. She didn't take another. Jennifer fell to the ground pounding an already punished body with one more painful impact.


	10. Chapter 10

The Will of Jennifer Keller Chapter 10

Jen woke on the floor of Jarrick's office with no recollection of how she had gotten there. She strained to pull even one piece of the memory back, but they eluded her completely. All she knew was that Jarrick was unconscious beside her.

She rolled him onto his back, shaking him gently and calling his name, but received no response. She didn't have the presence of mind to try and actually diagnose him. Something terrible had happened, he was unconscious, and she was injured. She was hurt, afraid, and needed to get somewhere safe as soon as possible.

She crawled her way to the door, and used the doorframe to leverage herself to a standing position. Then she was on her way - slowly. She looked down the hallway in each direction and picked left, using the wall to keep her upright.

Jen turned the first corner she came to and stopped. Fifty feet and she had to catch her breath. That was bad. She needed a plan - needed to know what happened so she could make a plan. She thought about it until her head hurt too much to concentrate. She started moving down the hallway again.

Keep moving - slow was better then not at all. One foot in front of the other.

Where? Did it matter? A transporter. To where? Back to needing a plan.

The first wish from Jen's heart was to see Ronon walk around the corner and find her, but that wish turned suddenly to panic. The voice in her head retold the story of her night.

_He got back from his mission tonight. He came to your room to find you. He accused you of cheating on him. He was enraged. You had never seen him like that before. He snapped. He attacked you. _

Had Ronon been the one who hurt her? And Jarrick?

She shook her head despite the pain. What was the last thing she could remember? Evan. Evan was the last thing she remembered. Evan came to her room and asked to come inside. Did something happen with Evan?

Medical training was her fallback: triage the situation. Assess needs and criticality. What did she need the most?

Sleep. Not an option.

Protection - and a hiding place until she could clear her head. She needed to get a weapon and get someplace safe.

She neatened her hair and let it fall down around her face in the hopes of looking less obvious. The five minute trek to the armory felt a lot longer as she made her way. The route with the least traffic was not the shortest one. Her head was swimming. She forgot where she was going twice.

When Jen reached the armory she waited in the hallway for a moment while she caught her breath. It was manned 24-7; Evan told her that when he was helping her with her firearm quals earlier in the week. She knew there would be someone at the desk.

Walking through the doorway with as much confidence as she could muster a too-happy young Marine greeted her.

"Dr. Keller. Ma'am. What can we do for you down here this morning."

"Need to," she started over, strengthening her voice. "Need to sign out a side arm, Private."

"Umm, Dr. Keller?" She wouldn't make eye contact. "Ma'am?" He even bent down and try to catch her eye, but without success.

"Yes?"

"Is everything alright ma'am?"

"Have an off-world trip coming tomorrow and I'm packing my gear."

He hadn't been around long, but he could tell something was off from the moment she walked in. She was not at all the Doctor he met just days ago at his physical. "At 0400 in the morning, Ma'am?"

His question startled her and she looked up without thinking. "What time is it Private?"

His first good look at her face changed his face from cheery to concerned in an instant. "Oh my god. Ma'am, we need to get you the infirmary."

"What time is it?"

"Doc, I think we should give Major Lorne a call and have him come down."

"Did you say 0400?"

He mustered all of the authority his young voice could manage. "Dr. Keller. I need to ask you what happened. I'm going to call a security team and …" the Marine reached for his comm unit only to be interrupted.

"Private, I'm the Chief Medical Officer for the expedition. My light arms qualifications are up to date and I'm authorized to carry a side arm for mission purposes. Sign me out the 9mm." She looked over her shoulder. "Please."

She had already been here longer then intended. Her vision was getting worse and her balance was deteriorating. She needed to find a place to pass out.

Private Erlich knew better then to argue with that tone of voice. He retrieved the weapon, entered its serial number into the log and turned it around for her to sign. Her handwriting was illegible, and was no where close to the line she was supposed to sign on. She said a hushed and hurried thank you over her shoulder and headed back out the hallway.

She was out of earshot when the young private got on his comm unit.

"Major Lorne, this is Erlich. We have a situation in the armory."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Evan was at full speed when he reached Jennifer's quarters. He had given the Marines guarding her room the command to secure the CMO and was hoping beyond all reason that Erlich was wrong and they were going to find her curled up watching a movie on her laptop. He would have given anything to have her yell at him for not using the door chime.

But that isn't what he found. The room was empty – no sign of the woman he had secured behind the same door two days before.

Evan shook his head in frustration. He knew something was wrong when he dropped her off here. He had come by and checked on every sentry pair for the last thirty four hours, and every time, he thought of stepping in to see Jen, but she seemed so tired.

It was one thing to have your gut be wrong. It was something entirely more maddening to have your gut be right and not follow it. It made him feel responsible.

Evan got on his comm unit. "Control, this is Major Lorne. I need a location on Dr. Keller."

"Locating now." The five second pause felt like five minutes. "Sir, we don't have a lock on her locator."

"Say again, Control."

"Major, we don't show her locator transmitting anywhere in the city."

Evan turned the comm unit off long enough to release a tirade of curses that would have made any Marine proud. He took one deep breath and steadied himself long enough to ask his next question. "When is the next scheduled check in for Colonel Sheppard's team?"

"Forty-five minutes, Major. 0500."

"Roger that, Control. Forty-five minutes. And a location on Mr. Woolsey."

"His quarters. He is scheduled to be in the Control Room for the 0500 transmission."

"Thank you, Control."

Evan looked at the two Marines standing in Jennifer's quarters with him. "We have forty-five minutes. Every available unit up and moving. This is priority one. I want the situation in the past-tense when I report to Colonel Sheppard."

The Marines were out the door, and Evan spoke to her empty room.

"Where the hell are you, Jennifer?"

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Jennifer continued down the hallway at the top speed her body could reach in her current state. She had spent too long in the armory. Now that Marine was going to have everyone looking for her - including Ronon.

_He got back from his mission tonight. He came to your room to find you. He accused you of cheating on him. He was enraged. You had never seen him like that before. He snapped. He attacked you. He stormed out of your room. You have no idea where he is. You are afraid._

The words rolled through her head over and over as she moved. She was afraid. Not much else made sense, but the fear – that she knew was real.

_The next time you see him you need to be prepared to defend yourself. You can't let him do this to you again - can't give him that chance. No matter what he does or says, the next time he walks into the room, you will give him no warning. You will just pull the trigger._

She checked her pocket, making sure the 9mm was secure, and headed toward the only place she could think of to hide.


	11. Chapter 11

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 11

"Colonel, this is Lorne."

Sheppard was uneasy from the moment he heard Lorne's voice. A routine check in would be a member of the Control Room team, maybe a question or two from Woolsey if the mission were high-priority. Military personnel taking the check in was a bad sign. "Go ahead, Major."

"Sir, we have a situation on Atlantis that requires your attention."

Sheppard had his confirmation. It must be pretty bad. Lorne was never vague unless there was good reason.

"What kind of situation, Major?"

Lorne dreaded saying the words. "There's an issue with Dr. Keller, Sir."

"Dr. Keller?" Repeating her name caught the attention of Ronon, Teyla and Rodney in an instant. They joined the comm link, listening as Sheppard asked the question that was on their minds. "What kind of issue, Major?"

"We don't know, Colonel. No one's seen her in a day and a half. Her locator isn't emitting. We're searching the city, but there's no sign of her."

"When was your last contact." John wanted details.

"Right after the gate room when you left."

"That was..." John looked at his watch making the quick calculation "… thirty-five hours ago, Major."

"Yes, Sir."

Something didn't make sense. If no one had seen her something must have happened to draw attention to her situation. "What made you start looking?"

"Sir?"

John clarified his question. "It's the middle of the night, Major. What made you feel the need to start looking? What's changed?"

Evan scrunched his face. He had hoped to deliver the specifics in person. "We had a report of Dr. Keller injured and armed, and we can't reach her or find her."

Sheppard ordered the off-world team to prepare to move out ASAP, and they quickly gathered gear and suited up.

"We'll be through the gate in twenty minutes. Do we have any idea what happened?"

"None, Colonel."

Sheppard looked up to see the frame of a large Satedan already in full stride for the gate.

"Lorne, Ronon's going to make it back through the gate before the rest of the team. I would suggest you staying in the control room to give him an update personally."

"Understood."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Jarrick woke, quickly moving to all fours from the ground to shake off the haze. In all of his time programming assets, none had ever struck out at him. The slap earlier in the week was almost forgivable, but this? He registered nothing but disbelief and contempt that this woman thought she could best him.

She surprised him. Not many people did.

She was injured, drugged and confused. Jarrick knew she hadn't gotten far, and the advantages in the hunt was clearly his – for starters, she was wearing a tracking device. He reached his laptop and watched her location appear overlaid on the blueprint of the city. She was close, and not moving.

Jarrick looked at his watch. Thirteen hours until Dex returned. That meant there was plenty of time to get her back and finish the programming. He hoped she resisted again - he was looking forward to teaching her a lesson before he left Atlantis.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

By the time Sheppard's team made it through the gate Ronon had already begun his personal search. Lorne was still in one piece, though, and that was something. There were no pleasantries as Sheppard walked past Lorne, the junior officer falling into step.

"Start from the beginning, Major."

"There was something wrong in the Gate Room when you all were leaving."

"She and Ronon had … words," Teyla offered.

"It was more than that," Lorne explained. "She was confused. I walked her back to her room and it was just – weird. She was nervous; scared, almost. I offered to come in, to check the room out – she said she just wanted to sleep, so I left. I didn't like it, so I stationed two Marines in her hallway on four hour shifts."

John hurried the story along. "And?"

"Nothing. Not a sound. Not movement or music or water sounds. Nothing. She hadn't stepped out of the room and no one had seen her."

Teyla was confused. "If she did not leave, why can you not find her?"

"I had a Private working the desk at the armory this morning on the 0200 – 0600 shift. He contacted me at 0415 this morning to tell me that Dr. Keller had been in the armory and signed out a 9mm."

That was probably the last thing that John wanted to hear. "What! She slipped past two armed Marines cause she needed protection and decided her and a 9mm was better then two of ours with P90s?"

There was a hint of defensive energy in Evan's voice as he responded. "She didn't slip out of the room. She didn't leave through the door. The Marines said it and the hallway security cameras back it up."

Sheppard stopped abruptly in the hall and faced Lorne. "What aren't you saying, Major?"

"Erlich said she was injured – that there were indicators … that there were signs she had taken a severe beating. He asked her multiple times if she was ok, and tried to dissuade her from checking out the weapon. He almost detained her."

John's temper got the better of him. "Well why the hell didn't he?"

Lorne defended the new recruit. "Cause he's been here 8 days and didn't want to put the CMO under arrest. He called me, and I had the Marines take her room. It was exactly as I had left it earlier, except with her not in it. No signs of struggle. We tried her comm unit – nothing. Tried her locator, nothing. Not in her quarters, the medlab, the gym, the mess, the commissary, the gate room, the conference rooms, hell, we even tried Ronon's quarters, the…"

John cut him off. "Did the private give her the 9mm?"

"No grounds not to. She's the CMO and all of her qualifications were up to date. She disappeared: twice, Colonel – once from her room and once from the armory. Something is very wrong."

Sheppard needed something to go on. "Rodney, how does someone just disappear?"

Rodney scanned his mind for the most obvious solution. "Easiest answer? Unauthorized transport."

Sheppard was taking command of the situation. "Can you track it?"

"Let me get to the lab. Stay on radio."

Sheppard turned to Lorne. "Did she say anything at all to Erlich that might help?"

"Colonel, she didn't even know what time it was. She just signed for the 9mm and left."

"Lorne, we need to figure out what the hell is going on. Get everyone…"

"Already on the move, Sir."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Ronon made his way through the halls. Evan had checked the obvious places, so Ronon struggled to think of where else Jen might go. He had watched her silently for a long time – he analyzed her habits and hideouts. There was a spot on a pier she went to when she needed to think, and a particular balcony she went to when she was sad. He covered both in record time.

There were literally a thousand places she could be, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the danger she was running from was closing in. He had to find her, and find her quickly. If Evan was right about her condition she would be in no position to protect herself.

Protect herself. She went for a weapon, so self-preservation was obviously the goal. Where would she go to feel confident, safe? Realization was written across his face as he put the pieces together. It couldn't be that simple, could it? Ronon did an about-face and headed to a place he hadn't been a weeks, but where she just might have taken sanctuary.


	12. Chapter 12

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 12

The adrenaline rocked Jennifer's body awake.

She must have passed out – there wasn't much past breaking the plain of the doorway that she remembered. It took every bit of coordination and pain tolerance she had to scramble for the wall. Her body obeyed as best it was able. As she put her right hand down for support, she realized it held a 9mm handgun.

She looked around the room. It was out of the way and of significant size, but with no furnishings. There were gym mats on the floor, but no other equipment. Ronon had brought her here two month ago when they began her training. She was too embarrassed to take the mat in front of the Marines, and Ronon said she'd never learn anything being that self-conscious. In time, as her confidence grew, they moved back to the main level, but this was where they started. She never asked how he'd found it.

Jarrick was backing away from her, a gun in his hand, too, but a calm disposition. "I was afraid for your safety. I was so worried that Ronon had found you again."

"Need to find Ronon."

"No, Jennifer. Ronon is coming to finish what he started – he'll kill you this time. You can't let him near you. As soon as you see him you need to be prepared to protect yourself. You know what you have to do. If you can't, there will only be one option left. It is Ronon or you, Jennifer. Now let's get you back to my office…"

She shook her head back and forth. She needed time and clarity, and fate was conspiring to give her neither. No sooner had the words come out of Jarrick's mouth then she caught a glimpse of Ronon's entering the room.

The moment moved in slow motion for Jarrick. The timing of his plan had just fallen apart. Ronon had returned well ahead of schedule. The IOA delegation was still on Atlantis, and he was now in the middle of the scene he had needed to happen when he was long gone. Everything he had worked for was in jeopardy.

For Ronon, time stopped all together. The sight of her, injured, bloody, bruised – the tears streaming down her face – his heart leapt in relief that he had found her and stopped in panic that she was still in danger.

He saw the gun in her hand, the confusion in her eyes, the syringe on the floor – he knew nothing of the man in the room, but quickly came to blame him for Jennifer's distress.

Ronon drew his gun at the sight of Jarrick's gun, Jarrick pointed his gun at Jennifer to dissuade Ronon from anything too heroic, and Jen lifted her 9mm.

At Ronon.

_The next time you see him you need to be prepared to defend yourself. You can't let him do this to you again - can't give him that chance. No matter what he does or says, the next time he walks into the room, you will give him no warning. You will just pull the trigger._

Jarrick was out of options. All he could do was push every button and hope that enough of the suggestion had taken hold to force Jen to carry out the command.

"Dr. Keller, you know what you have to do."

"No. Can't do it." She didn't look at Jarrick, but kept her eyes on Ronon.

"Yes, you can. Remember what he did to you - how it felt to beg him to stop and have him beat you like you were nothing."

Ronon's head snapped to the IOA delegate in complete disbelief. Had Jarrick just said that Ronon was the one who'd hurt Jennifer? Jarrick looked to him briefly, and the smug expression told Ronon everything he needed to know. Jarrick knew Ronon hadn't hurt her and was lying for his own purposes.

Ronon's expression went from confusion to fury as Jarrick continued speaking.

"He's coming after you again. He's threatening us right now. His gun is in his hand. You have to protect yourself, Dr. Keller. You know what you have to do."

Jennifer's tears fell so fast they blurred her vision. She looked at the 9mm in her hand, and back to Ronon.

Ronon tried to diffuse the situation. Jennifer was injured and in distress, so Ronon pulled up on his gun to calm her down. "Jen, everything is going to be ok. I'm here and you're safe."

Jennifer found a split second of comfort in Ronon's words until Jarrick's taunting continued. "Not safe with him, Dr. Keller. Need to be safe from him."

"Not safe."

"That's right Dr. Keller. Not safe. He will kill us both if you don't stop him right now."

She looked at Jarrick as though he was speaking a different language. "I can't."

Jarrick was enraged. More than sixty hours of work invested in this asset, and at the critical moment she was failing the test. "Then you know there is only one alternative. If you can't save yourself, then you are as weak as they say you are. No discipline. No self respect. Useless to this expedition. Worthless."

Ronon knew that Jarrick's words were pushing Jen to the edge. "Shut the hell up."

Jarrick ignored the growl from the Satedan and continued. "You'll never recover from this. They'll always know you have no place here. They're gong to send you back to Earth. You couldn't cut it here. They feel sorry for you. They think you need to be looked after like a child. They …"

"Stop! Just need to think." Her hands shook and she regarded the gun. She banged it once against her head as if the mere motion could knock the confusion from her hear. Couldn't see clearly - couldn't hear clearly. The voice was right. She was nothing. Always needing help, always needing rescue. Wavering. Bad decisions.

Ronon tried again to get through to her. "You're going to be alright, Jen. Everything is going to be alright."

Jarrick laughed. "He talks to you like a child. That's what he thinks of you."

"Strong. Beautiful. Capable. That's what I think of you. Jen, listen to my voice."

Jen yelled her confusion to the air. What little firearm training she had was completely disregarded. She was erratic in her movement, keeping both men at bay. When she seemed to steady just the slightest amount, she raised the gun to her own head.

Ronon's breath came sharply. "Jen, point it back at me." There was no gentleness to his words. He could see she was losing a battle with drugs and confusion. She was a danger to herself if she remained unfocused. He would gladly have taken a bullet before he let her harm herself.

She rubbed her face, gun still in her grasp. She braced her arm against her knee momentarily to gain her bearing, but Jarrick persisted trying to push her over the edge. "Choose, Dr. Keller."

"I love you, Jennifer."

"You or him, Dr. Keller. Choose now!" Jarrick's taunting tone rung in her ear.

It was the same tone of the voice in her head. "_The next time you see him you need to be prepared to defend yourself. You can't let him do this to you again - can't give him that chance. No matter what he does or says, the next time he walks into the room, you will give him no warning. You will just pull the trigger."_

Jennifer lifted the gun and fired.


	13. Chapter 13

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 13

Jennifer didn't fire once, she fired over and over. Shot after shot rang out in the echo chamber of a room. Even when Jarrick's body hit the floor she continued to fire at the spot he had been standing, through the clicks of the empty clip.

Ronon came to her side as slowly as possible to keep her calm. She never looked at him. Her hand still shaking, she placed the gun on the floor and slid it in his direction. He covered her hand with his and took the sidearm. He thought about scooping her up and heading for medical help, but as upset as she was he feared he might do more harm.

He activated his communicator. "Sheppard. You know the room where we fight when we don't want an audience?"

"Yeah."

"Get down here with a medteam."

Her tears became cries and her cries became sobs until every breath was so rushed and jagged he knew she couldn't sustain herself. She winced in pain with every intake, groaned at every release.

His words of calm went unheeded. If she hadn't pushed the gun in his direction he wouldn't be sure she knew he was there at all. His mind reeled at the possibilities of what she had endured in the short time he had been gone. In the top from her uniform he could see so many marks. He had given and taken enough blows to know how each one had come to her, the images of someone's fist slamming into her face and body making him sick with disgust.

There was no stopping the darkness from taking her. At least unconscious her body would calm enough to breath. When she fell limp against the wall he carefully laid her down. Her body's distress had been painful to watch; her form unmoving and responsive was excruciating.

"Sheppard!"

"30 Seconds, man."

Ronon's mind went further back to the events of the week. Her shoulder. Her temper. Her jaw. Her distance. The not sleeping. The working out. The light arms qualifications. This wasn't two nights worth of damage. These things hadn't only occurred while he was off world – this had happened when he had been there and not paying enough attention.

The medical team entered flanked by security. Lorne was there. Sheppard, too. None of them were prepared for the sight of her.

Dr. Pedersen moved fastest and loudest, moving the warriors around him with no more then a stern voice. They secured her to a gurney for transport. Ronon pointed at the syringe on the ground, telling the doctor that he thought Jarrick had injected her with something before Ronon had arrived. Pedersen placed it in his bag for testing at the lab. It was their best chance to figure out what had transpired.

As Ronon moved past Sheppard pushing Jennifer's gurney he quickly handed John the 9mm. Ronon didn't look back to see the expression of shock when John put all the pieces together. There was no communication between them. If Ronon had been in a position to say more, he would have - John knew him well enough to know that. John looked at the body of a very dead IOA official on the floor and then back to the woman being wheeled away. He was in for one hell of a story.


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N:**__ A double dose today, partly because I feel bad about how I left Chapter 12, partlyl because I edited wrong and Chapter 13 was so short, and partly because tomorrow is Valentine's Day and my sweetie has requested no Ronon on my mind. Good luck with that, right? We are past the halfway point, so hang in there with me. The reviews have tremendously encouraging. Thank you. -Kalli_

The Will of Jennifer Keller Chapter 14

Mr. Woolsey had followed the comm chatter to the infirmary. "Dr. Pedersen, status, please."

"She hasn't regained consciousness. We're monitoring her vitals, running some bloodwork, and testing the syringe recovered at the scene. She's getting stitches right now, and will need x-rays as soon as that's done. She has at least 2 broken ribs. Breath sounds are jagged – there is a concern she may have punctured a lung. There are more scans and tests we would like to run, but we'd like to see her come around first."

The expedition leader wanted answers. "Did we determine where she was this morning?"

Colonel Sheppard brought him up to speed, leading Woolsey to authorized the full investigation that was already well underway. "We need to retrace her steps for the last two days."

"She was off rotation yesterday. Didn't even stop in, which is more than a little out of character," Dr. Pedersen added as he reviewed the blood test results Marie had just handed him. He read them once, put his glasses on, and read them again. He looked at Marie with an expression that clearly asked if she was sure.

"Ran them twice, Doctor."

Teyla read the body language and knew that the revelation was not a good one. "What is it?"

"Her toxscreen came back positive for the presence of compounds consistent with heavy psychotropics."

"Psychotropic drugs? Dr. Keller was on drugs?" Woolsey was struggling to comprehend how much had gone wrong in just the thirty-six hours since he had seen his CMO in the gate room.

Pedersen clarified. "There were psychotropic drugs in her system. They aren't standard compounds. There is definitely some customization that has taken place, but these don't appear to be the kind of drugs you take for pleasure."

Pedersen looked at Ronon. "Was she hallucinating?"

Ronon didn't answer. He didn't know how to describe her behavior or confusion in that room. Could he tell them that in her confusion she had contemplated taking his life? Her own life? Instead he said nothing.

Pedersen went back to the medical facts at hand. "Well, her injuries are not hallucinations. They are unprotected in nature – received when she was unable to stop the impact. The psychotropic dimension is more likely a factor of someone trying to alter her behavior or memory."

Ronon needed to trust these people to help Jen. "Or both."

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"In the room – he did both. He lied to her about her injuries, and tried to convince her to do things she would not normally consider."

John didn't like how ominous that sounded. "What kind of things?"

Ronon looked Sheppard right in the eye and shook his head once. He would go no farther in front of all of these people. Not until he understood what happened to her.

Sheppard recognized the total unease in his friend's face, and let the issue fall. There would be many more conversations on the subject. Right now the only things that were important were what they needed to treat Jen.

Woolsey was prepared to press for detailed, and began to speak when he was interrupted by Rodney's voice announcing his arrival in the hallway.

"It was a transport. I went back to the lab and worked through the transport data for the last week. Transports produce a wave output when they cross into new space. All city transports are modified to ensure that their signals are trackable, and personal transport devices are not authorized in the city."

John tried to speed him up. "Surprisingly, I knew all of that already."

"Unauthorized transports are phenomenally rare," The scientist explained. "They're illegal, expensive, the technology is close hold. It hasn't been an issue for us."

Rodney reached for a laptop that Radek held. "So I went back over the results of one of the experiments that Zelenka was completing this week."

Zelenka quickly described the experiment. "We were looking to identify potential synergies in the cloak and shield wave outputs."

Woolsey was momentarily distracted. "Do you think we can do both at the same time?"

"Remains to be seen. There…"

Rodney interrupted to continue his explanation. "Anyway, he was specifically collecting wave spectrum data during overnight hours when there were fewer interfering emissions. You had to be looking for it to find it," Rodney's fingers tapped the screen in his hand, "but an unauthorized transport device was definitely being used in the city. Small, probably only large enough to move adjacent matter, but there."

"So you found it?" John was losing his patience.

"Look at the wave dispersion output for four nights ago. There are wave particles visible in the vicinity of Jennifer's quarters."

Rodney played out the rendering of the wave signals on the screen. The green colored signal got brighter and larger, and then disappeared.

"What just happened?" John was sure it was important, although he wasn't sure how.

"Best explanation, someone transported into Jennifer's room, made contact with her, and transported out. The wave signature gets stronger, as though it was carrying more matter. Then five hours later. Here it comes."

The wave signature appeared again, and in reverse of its earlier strengthening, it weakened on the screen.

"Voila. It comes back, puts Jennifer back in her quarters, and transports out alone. But one more thing – watch it when we add her locator signal to the picture."

They watched the visualization play out again, this time with Jen's ID marker on the screen. The wave particles materialized in her room, and her ID marker disappeared, then the wave particles disappeared. Then reversed the process when it came back.

Rodney explained. "Someone disabled her locator before they moved her so she couldn't be found."

"Can you trace the other end of the wave materialization?" Woolsey asked.

"Already done." A few stokes superimposed the wave particles over a blueprint. "It is an unused, isolated room equipped as quarters. It met the requirements laid out by IOA delegate Dr. Anatol Jarrick for a room he needed for 'sidebar discussions and research'. Only he had the access code for it."

Woolsey raises his hand to stop the movement, tilting his head just slightly to answer a call on his communicator. "I will be right there." Woolsey looked at the group gathered around him. "It appears the IOA delegation has decided to leave a little earlier than planned. They are assembling in the jumper bay now."

"That seems like a strange coincidence," Sheppard said, stating the obvious.

"I need to speak to the head of the delegation." Woolsey nodded and headed towards the nearest transporter.

John hit Ronon and Lorne on their shoulders. "Let's go." Then he pointed at Rodney. "You get the code and have that door open when we get there. Then make your way down."


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N:**__ Umm. Yeah. I might have implied to some of you that the shooting scene was the last of the big cliffhangers in the story. Apologies in advance. Hope you enjoy this installment anyway. -Kalli_

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 15

John and Ronon ran through the halls to their destination, Evan just paces behind. Jennifer was in the infirmary and Jarrick was dead but the drive to know what had happened to her was strong enough to speed their course. Rodney had overridden the access panel remotely by the time they got there, and was already making his way to meet them.

The soldiers sought answers from the four walls. Small. Unremarkable. Left in some amount of disarray. Broken glass and spilled water on the floor. Syringes under the desk and by the bed. A picture of Jennifer discarded to the ground. Her communicator on the corner of the desk.

Rodney made his way into the room, not knowing what to expect. As the others had been drawn to the physical condition of the room, Rodney was instantly drawn to its technology. He set himself at the computer and began pouring over applications and data.

Ronon's anxiety grew. He sensed her in some way the others wouldn't understand. She had been her. Had been afraid here. Had bled here. The room still held her scent. He turned slowly in a circle taking in details.

Sheppard looked over at the desk where Rodney sat, but couldn't read the expression on the scientist's face. Rodney was quiet. That, in and of itself, was a hint there was something wrong, but when he closed his eyes, grimaced and turned his face from the screen, John walked over to see what was on the monitor. The others followed.

There was no need to wonder how Jennifer had been injured. Jarrick had captured every moment for posterity. Her unconscious body on the floor, Jarrick lifted her arm to expose her midsection, and buried his foot into her chest. Then he lifted her head and contacted the side of her face with a punishing blow – the determined look never leaving his face.

Rodney kept his focus on the wall of the room, anywhere but at the picture on the screen. "These file sizes indicate that there are close to sixty hours of footage here. At least half of it is contained in this extended file."

He forwarded it past the beating, coming to a stop right after Jarrick drugged Jennifer awake and she panicked. Rodney jumped to the middle of a conversation. "The time stamp says this took place not long after we left two days ago."

"… _but I need you to listen to me. You need to be ready. Ronon is coming back to finish the job. When you see him you need to be ready to defend yourself."_

"_What happened to me?"_

"_Jennifer, you came to me to tell me you had been attacked and to ask for my help. You were afraid to go to people who know Ronon incase they might tell him where you are. You wanted to know that you would be protected."_

"_I need to go to the medlab."_

"_Jennifer, what if Ronon is waiting for you?"_

"_Thank God, is Ronon back?"_

"_Jennifer, Ronon hurt you."_

"_No. Ronon? What about Ronon?" _

"_You came in here and told me what happened. He got back from his mission tonight. He came to your room to find you. He accused you of cheating on him. He was enraged. You had never seen him like that before. He snapped. He attacked you. He stormed out of your room. You have no idea where he is. You are afraid."_

"_Never afraid of Ronon. Ronon would never – could never."_

"_Violence from people we care about is never easy. You know he's capable of it, though, don't you. You have seen it. There are so many dark sides to him."_

"Jesus Christ," was all Sheppard could get out.

"She appears to still have some sense of reality. It probably took some time to break her point of reference." Rodney added.

Ronon flinched at the use of the word 'break'. Someone had tried to break Jennifer, and had used him to do it. Tried to break her trust in him, to break her feelings for him, just as surely as they had broken her body. Every exhale became a growl until he picked up the chair where Jen sat in the video and threw it across the room in a roar.

"Would. Never. Hurt. Her."

John reached for him – placing his hands on the big man's shoulders to steady him; maybe also to steady himself. "She didn't believe him. I haven't heard the whole story yet, but I'd bet money that lie is what got him killed."

Ronon regulated his body and breathed through his desire to throw anything or anyone else in case there was anything important here that could help undo the damage Jarrick had done.

John hand went to his communicator answering a call. "Roger that. On our way." He looked at the three men in the room. "They want us back at the infirmary."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Mr. Woolsey's argument with Representative continued. "I assure you that the safety of the delegation is our top priority. There is no reason for you to accelerate your departure…"

Stanton bellowed back at the expedition leader. "A member of the delegation is dead, Mr. Woolsey. Dead. And your chief medical officer is gravely injured. Do you have someone in custody? Do you have a lead? So now tell me again why we should stay here any longer."

"Dr. Keller is injured, but we are hopeful she'll be able to shed some light on the events of the last few hours. It would be tremendously helpful to the investigation if we were able to speak with the other delegates and get a better picture of what might have taken place."

"We are leaving. Now." The last of the delegation boarded the ship. Woolsey was powerless to stop them. He had no authority to detain them, and no proof of anyone else's involvement in the events that took Jarrick's life and injured Dr. Keller.

Stanton knew this attempt to turn Keller into an asset would backfire. He was disgusted that he had allowed Jarrick to pull the strings for so long. With Jarrick dead, there was a neat ending to a messy story. Stanton felt no remorse.

But Keller living – that was another issue. Her in the infirmary, being treated, would inevitably lead to the expedition finding out what happened. Stanton couldn't let that happen.

He made his way up the ramp, thumbing a device small enough to disappear in the fist he made. It was next to impossible to see.

Woolsey backed down the ramp admitting defeat, and the ramp began to lift.

Stanton shook his head the slightest amount. "I'm sorry, Dr. Keller," he whispered. He opened his hand, repositioned the device, and depressed the button on the metallic object.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

What filled the air in the medlab and every adjacent room and hallway was the unmistakable sound of agony. Jennifer was in pain: horrible, excruciating pain. Ronon, John, Evan and Rodney ran the final 40 feet back to the medlab, joining Teyla in the hallway.

Ronon went two steps farther, moving to enter the room. He was met with Marie's most forceful push. "Let us do our job."

Ronon believed he had been through a lot, but the sound of Jennifer's suffering shook every fiber in his body to the core. He paced like an animal and let out a roar that startled all of those around him. He approached the window, slamming two hands against it as he watched her writhe.

He looked are her, praying that she would look at him for just one moment, that she might know he was there and find comfort in it. The sounds of her distress were stabbing his chest with worry and fear – the screaming driving him to madness.

Ronon could do nothing but watch as Jen's eyes rolled back. She descended into convulsions, and then was suddenly still. The space where her screams used to be filled with only one long continuous tone, and the team in the hallway clearly heard Marie's voice yell out the alert.

"Flatline."


	16. Chapter 16

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 16

Ronon bowed his head and began speaking softly in an ancient language rarely heard by those on Atlantis. It was a mix of sounds and syntax that were alien to them, but the intent was clear. It could only be a prayer.

"Clear!"

He didn't look up. He knew the meaning of the unending, maddening tone blaring from the machine attached to Jennifer. He simply spoke his words as though he was the only one there, not caring who knew that losing this woman would break his soul.

"Clear!"

His eyes closed. He had been too late - had let her down. It was easy to wish for a different cause, but there wasn't one. She had been taken, tortured, beaten, and he had done nothing. And he had no way to make restitution for his lapse. Jarrick was already dead, by her hand. The beautiful healer was forced to kill a man to save herself while Ronon watched and did nothing.

"Clear!"

The beep went from one extended tone to a series of evenly spaced staccato ones.

Ronon lifted his gaze tentatively, without lifting his head. Pedersen and Marie, aided by other personnel continued to move busily around Jen's still form.

Marie scrunched her nose with a look of puzzlement. "What is that?"

The team around Jen searched for the source of a sound and an odor, one of the interns lifting Jennifer's arm. His hand recoiled, dropping her arm suddenly to the bed. The intern grabbed his fingers, as though he was in pain. "It's burning her."

Ronon looked at her slender arm and the bulky watch like device that sat securely around her wrist. He came through the door before his friends could stop him, crossing to Jen.

"Hold her arm up!" Pedersen instructed the intern, but it was Ronon who lifted her arm by her forearm and fingers as Pedersen reached for a tool to cut through the band. Unable to wait, Ronon unfastened the hook himself, feeling the sting of chemicals on his fingertips. He pulled the band off and offered it to Pedersen, who grabbed it with a metal tool and dropped it on a tray.

Jen's wrist was burned where the face of the device had been, blisters already forming – her skin angry and red. Marie reached for Ronon to see if his hand was alright, but he pulled it away from her.

"Look to Jennifer."

The medical team took samples of the skin around Jennifer's burn, and from the device sitting on the tray.

Ronon stared at her body – no more than a kaleidoscope of angry color and pain. He never hated anyone more then he did at this moment - even a dead man, and Ronon had a long history with hatred.

They covered her and made her comfortable, but he still saw the marks. The violence had been so personal – intended for her. They chose her. Specifically. And beat her. And more? He didn't know. The bruises disappeared under the edges of her clothing – there was so much he hadn't seen.

Marie finally came and took his arm gently. She stepped away and led him back to the hallway with the others. He kept his gaze fixed on her face until he reached the doorway, then composed himself and walked to hear Dr. Pedersen's assessment.

"She is stabilizing." He carried the tray with the device in his hand. "Someone needs to take a look at this and figure out what it is. Carefully," he warned. "There is some kind of chemical agent on it."

"Will she be alright?" Evan asked.

"I can't say, yet. We still aren't sure what just happened, but the reaction and arrest were more likely a result of the chemicals then her physical injuries. We may have gotten the device off of her in time."

"And now?" John asked.

"We'll start constant screening of toxicity levels and get a better sense of how she is reacting to and processing the chemicals in her system."

The group had a solemn demeanor as they looked at each other. It was John who tried to get everyone focused. "Teyla, you come down to Jarrick's room with Lorne and I. Maybe you'll see something we missed." John turned to the doctor. "Dr. Pedersen, do you have someone you could spare? There were drugs and syringes in the room – I would like to have one of your people take a look."

"Of course. Do we know what they did to her?"

Rodney took Jarrick's laptop and handed it to Pedersen, exchanging it for the tray that held the wrist device. "He taped everything. Maybe it will help you. I," he said as he held the tray up a little higher, "will get this to the lab and get started with Zalenka."

John only looked at Ronon, nodding once in an attempt to remind him he was not alone. John had no instruction for Ronon, though – no point. They wouldn't have been heeded. Ronon would stand protector over Jennifer until they returned. He asked no permission when he went back to her side – just strode into the room, pulled a stool beside her bed and leaned on it.

Ronon catalogued every mark, relived every scream, remembered the track of every tear that fell as she anguished. He thought of his horror as she lifted a gun to her own head rather than contemplate doing him harm.

She had a strength to her that so few ever recognized. He willed her to use every ounce of it now to heal herself – to make it through.

Ronon never completely relaxed his form, but maintained a rigidity to his frame as he watched over her. He had relaxed for seven days, and she had suffered.

This time he would be vigilant.


	17. Chapter 17

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 17

Ronon relinquished his sentry position beside Jennifer's bed to a team of Marines he trained with for more than three years, and even in their hands he still worried as he made his way to the meeting Woolsey called.

Rodney and Radek arrived, the device from Jen's wrist on a tray in front of them. Becket and Pedersen brought in her latest medical reports. John, Evan, and Teyla were already in the room. Dr. Heightmeyer was there as well, speaking to Woolsey privately. They separated and took their seats at the table.

Dr. Heightmeyer decided on the direct approach as she explained the next steps to the gathering.

"We need to prepare Dr. Keller for additional care at SGC. There's a doctor on staff there who has a history with this kind of trauma. I believe that the best course of treatment is to place Dr. Keller in Dr. Feist's care and let her make an independent determination."

Her tone had been calm and even, but was met with an eruption of noise – choruses of 'No' and 'Absolutely not', none louder than Ronon's as he made his way inside. The other voices she heard – Ronon's she felt as the concussion of his objection bounced off the walls.

Woolsey closed his eyes and shook his head, wishing the meeting had started on a better note.

"It was my decision," he interjected, deflecting the hostility of the room from Heightmeyer.

"That's a terrible idea," John countered. "We can protect her better here."

"How? You don't know what you're protecting her from." Woolsey was not at all surprised at their resistance.

"Well, it's a pretty fair assumption that someone in the IOA is behind what happened to her, and there's a lot more of them at SGC than there are here." John pointed out.

"You think the IOA is going to try to play mind control games with her at SGC?" Woolsey asked.

"They tried right here on Atlantis. Why not there?" Evan was angry that her protection was being taken out of his hands. He still had amends to make.

Ronon couldn't believe how naïve the suggestion was. "You think they'll bother with mind games? They're only concerned with saving their own hides now. If they get to her, they'll kill her. And your answer is to deliver her right into their hands?" Ronon didn't bother to take a seat.

Woolsey took another approach. "Let's all take a step back and walk through what we know. I believe it will become clear that this is the best path forward. Can you share your findings on the device with the group?" Woolsey asked motioning to the gadget removed from Jennifer's wrist.

Rodney pushed the tray further to the center of the table for everyone to see. "First, it was a transmitter. It hasn't functioned since the chemical reaction, but it had the ability to track her, as well as block the emission from her locator."

"Which explains why we couldn't find her," Evan said, leaning forward and tapping his hands on the conference room table, the explanation not making him feel any better about her disappearing on his watch.

"And how Jarrick did," Ronon added, settling himself against the wall, arms crossed tightly across his chest. He'd wondered to himself how Jarrick had discovered her in such a remote location so quickly.

Rodney continued. "Secondly, it had two compartments that stored harmless chemicals."

"Not that harmless," John said. His face had a pained expression remembering Jennifer arresting in the medlab.

"Not until they were mixed." Zelenka provided the detailed description. The two compartments were separated by a divider. Once that divider was removed, the chemicals mixed, burned through the back of the device and were absorbed into Dr. Keller's bloodstream."

"And burned the hell out of her wrist," Evan commented.

"Yes. That, too," Zelenka acknowledged solemnly.

"Do we know how the divider was removed?" Teyla asked.

Rodney took over the conversation again. "Remote control. And the records from the infirmary and the control room indicate that it happened at approximately the same time that the IOA delegation left – although we have no idea if it was right before or right after."

"She could have died." Carson shook his head at how close they came to losing her. "Even in the infirmary, with the medical staff standing beside her, they barely had enough time to remove the device, limit the concentration of chemicals in her blood and revive her."

"And Jarrick was already very dead at the time," John pointed out. "We know that he couldn't have done it, so there was someone else helping him."

"At least one other person, and Jarrick wasn't the one in charge. There was someone else he reported to." Dr. Heightmeyer had been quiet since her opening to the discussion, but decided this was an appropriate time to share her findings.

"How do you know that?" John asked, switching positions in his chair while he listened. He didn't like that Heightmeyer had details he didn't.

"I've begun watching the recordings on Jarrick's computer. There are many instances where he speaks to someone who was either watching or listening in. The accomplice was very worried about being discovered, and Jarrick clearly reported to him."

"And we don't know who that person was." Teyla was frustrated at how little they had learned in the 30 hours since they had brought Jennifer to the infirmary.

"No way of telling from the tapes." Dr. Heightmeyer confirmed. "They only recorded what was going on in Jarrick's room, and he never used a name."

"So they just left the city with the delegation and got away with what they did to her?" Ronon shook his head in disbelief, pushing himself off the wall he leaned against.

"Or they could be right here in the city and waiting for a chance to try again," Woolsey pointed out.

"You don't know." Heightmeyer explained. "That's the whole point. There is way more here that we don't know than that we do, and it's dangerous to keep her here without more information."

"What I know," Sheppard interjected, pointing one finger and pressing it to the table in front of him, "is that this team here can look after her better than any team at SGC." He looked around the room and saw the resolute faces of his team.

"No, you don't," Dr. Heightmeyer answered. She shook her head for emphasis. "None of you do. You don't know anything yet, except that she was tormented for seven days and was forced to take a man's like to save herself." Her words were filled with facts, but her voice was filled with compassion. "And that makes you all feel guilty – that you didn't see it, that you didn't protect her." She looked from John to Evan. "And now you think you have one more chance, but you don't.

Evan began to protest, but Heightmeyer put both her hands in front of her, motioning for him to give her one more minute. He begrudgingly complied.

She looked to Teyla. "You don't know why they chose her specifically, or what the final objective was for her."

"They wanted her to kill Ronon," Teyla interjected.

"No. Killing Ronon was a test of her loyalty – their purpose is still unclear," Heightmeyer reminded them.

Then to John. "You don't know who helped him, or if she's still in danger."

John gave no response, but knew in his mind that Heightmeyer was right. He had guards stationed at the infirmary, but they had no idea if there was someone still looking to do her harm.

The medical staff was next. "You don't know if the tapes represent the only sessions, or if there was more programming done that we have no insight into."

Carson and Pedersen couldn't counter the argument.

She looked back to Evan as she continued the questions. "Can you account for her whereabouts this past week? No. You have no idea how much time they spent together, and what might have transpired that we couldn't see."

Then she focused in on Ronon. "And you don't know if she will still try to execute her programming when she wakes up."

Ronon's eyes were dark as night as he thought through the implications of the head doctor's words. She was right, but not at all for the reasons she thought. Everyone believed his concern should be that Jen might make an attempt on his life, but he could care less what harm might come his way. What terrified him was that she again might think to hurt herself.

The image of Jennifer holding a gun to her own head haunted him.

Heightmeyer continued, but Ronon was through listening. He walked out of the room.

John and Teyla looked at each other, and then at the door. John had seen Ronon do many things, but give in was never one of them. There was more to the story, and John needed answers.

The discussion lasted another five minutes, but the outcome had already been decided. Woolsey told the medical staff to ready Jennifer for transport in two hours.

As the group made its way out of the conference room, John approached Woolsey.

"I need to speak to General O'Neill. I have a favor to call in."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

John and Teyla found Ronon exactly where they expected him to be: watching over Jennifer. He was outside the infirmary, taking in the sight of her through the glass.

Ronon was a cut-and-dry kind of man. John liked it that way – with Ronon you always knew what you were going to get, and always knew he was giving it to you straight.

But pulling together the details of the last confrontation with Jarrick had been difficult. Ronon avoided sharing them with anyone, despite their obvious desire to know. John expected Ronon to stay and fight to keep Jen on Atlantis, but he hadn't, and that had John more worried then he was before. Ronon knew something no one else knew.

"What happened in that room, Ronon." John's tone was severe, relating how serious he knew this was and how much he wanted an honest answer.

Ronon thought about deflecting, giving an answer about the meeting a few minutes ago to misdirect, but he knew John was talking about Jennifer and Jarrick, and had no energy to play games. "She killed him."

"I know she shot Jarrick, but that isn't what is keeping you up at night. What haven't you told anyone? Why aren't you still up there arguing with Woolsey and Heightmeyer."

"Because I can't take the chance that they're right."

"Nah, I'm not buying that you are worried she'll hurt you. So what might they be right about."

Ronon was still being vague. "That wasn't all Jarrick told her to do."

"He programmed her to kill you. He tried to convince her you had hurt her in some jealous rage, and that she had to kill you in self-defense." John reviewed what he already knew.

"Yeah."

"And…"

Ronon looked at John and Teyla, ensuring sure they were the only ones in the hallway, and making himself believe that he could trust them with Jennifer's secret.

"And that if she couldn't kill me, she had to kill herself."

"Oh my god." John head recoiled, physically shaken by the thought. "But she didn't – try to kill herself, I mean – right?" John studied Ronon's face and evasive eyes. The silence told John everything he didn't want to know. "She did. She tried to hurt herself."

"She put the gun to her own head. She would have killed herself to save me, and there was nothing I could do to stop her. "

"But you did," Teyla reasoned. "You must have. She didn't harm you, or herself. And she recognized Jarrick for the threat that he was."

"I can't take the chance that they're right – that she'll wake up here, realize I'm alive, and hurt herself before they can undo what Jarrick did to her."

John studied his friend, knowing none of the options were good ones. If she stayed and something went wrong Ronon would blame himself, and if she left, finding herself outside the reach of his protection, and came to harm, he would still blame himself.

It was a terrible decision. Her physical safety weighed against her emotional and mental recovery. Ronon had accepted that what was best in the long run was for her to undergo de-programming at SGC, but also knew that it is the one place he couldn't protect her. Not that it mattered what he thought. The decision had been made. There was nothing for Ronon to do now but worry.

John clung to the idea that he might be able to offer Ronon one small amount of peace.

"I spoke to General O'Neill. I called in a favor or two."

"He owes you a favor?" Ronon asked suspiciously.

"Not really," John admitted, "but he owes you a favor, and now he has a favor to hold over my head. General O'Neill is personally choosing a protection detail for her while she's at SCG. He already has the Major leading the team picked out. She'll arrive there in a week, and she'll be in the best hands she can be in, that aren't ours."

"What if it isn't enough?"

John wouldn't allow himself to imagine that outcome. He gripped Ronon's shoulder. "It will be."

Ronon gave him the slightest of nods and in to say his goodbye to Jen's unconscious body. He stopped at the doorway and looked back at his friends.

"It's what he told her we would do, you know."

"Jarrick?" John didn't follow Ronon's train of thought.

Ronon nodded is head. "Before she shot him. He told her that if she couldn't kill me or kill herself that we would all know she was weak. He told her we thought she was worthless. He told her she was finished here – that she'd be sent home."

"She isn't going to believe that – she'll know," John said with as much confidence as he could muster.

"Really?" Ronon questioned his friends as casually as he could, but his frustration was still evident in his voice. He tied his dreads up behind him, still looking at her. "She's going to wake up - maybe with her memory, maybe not - hurt, alone and back on Earth. What would you believe?"

He let the question hang in the air as the door closed behind him.

"SGC has a doctor who specializes in this. It's the best option for her care," John said, still standing in the hallway, trying to convince himself as much as Teyla.

Teyla felt the need to prepare John for the possibility he seemed to be unwilling to consider. "Even if she heals completely, there is still a possibility she will not return."

John questioned her with his expression.

"If she recovered here, with her friends and responsibilities then remaining on Atlantis would have been assumed, but think of her." Teyla's eyes conveyed her worry as she watched her friend through the glass. "She will heal, physically and emotionally, but in another place, closer to her family and things that made her feel secure. It stands to reason that coming back after everything that happened to her will prove the harder choice."

John shook his head. "You're underestimating the Doc."

"I hope you are right. For her sake. And Ronon's."


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N:**__ This chapter and the next are a little different from the ones before them – the last chapters spanned hours, these will span weeks – the last chapters had bits and pieces of the whole gang and these two are pretty Jen focused. But these two will bridge us to the conclusion, and will lay the foundation for the sequel (if any of you are brave enough to trust me again.) Hang in there with me – we are so close to seeing this one through! -Kalli _

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 18

Jennifer's first week away from Atlantis was spent unconscious. In transit through the vast expanse of space, Jennifer's body got some forced rest under the supervision of one of the interns from the Atlantis staff and under the watchful eye of two well armed Marines. Between the drugs and the beating and the no sleep and the over-exertion, her body lacked even the very basic strength to heal itself. She was placed in a medically induced coma until they could get her to the base hospital at SGC .

The Atlantis personnel, true to their promises to those back in Pegasus, did everything they could to gain permission to stay with her, but in the end her new Doctor was adamant. Her mental recovery would only take place removed from anyone from Atlantis. They were unceremoniously sent home, with little more news for the Expedition than the report that Jen's physical condition had improved greatly in the week of transit, and that she had arrived safely.

Even such small pieces of good news were well received by her Pegasus family.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The second week Jennifer was brought out of the coma into a world of complete confusion. Her memories were fragmented, a disorienting series of images -some real, some not - that pounded her brain. When she finally understood that she was at SGC she cried for hours, Dr. Rebecca Feist silently holding her hand. Feist could offer no comfort, no promises about going back, no details of events – it would interfere with natural memory recovery. This was one of the main things that Feist knew the Atlantis team couldn't do – watch Jen's anguish without needing to intervene. It was key to long term recovery, but was hard to witness – it was why Feist insisted Jen be sent back to SGC in the first place.

And the more she learned about Jennifer, the happier she was that she had been so insistent. Feist had been given a week's notice of her new patient's arrival, which afforded an opportunity rare to this kind of case – time. She used every minute to watch the recordings of the Jarrick sessions, to study Jennifer's file in depth, to read mission reports, to learn Jen's background. At SGC Feist was considered the expert on deprogramming, but such expertise often came from a darker past. To truly undo the damage, you needed to know how to inflict it. Feist poured through the information at her disposal looking for what made Jennifer the right subject – finding every trigger and suggestion protocol.

What she found was that Jennifer was the most valuable subject Jarrick could have chosen, and he didn't even know it. He lucked onto her as a point of entry, wanting a way to keep tabs on Woolsey and have an asset prepositioned in the Pegasus Galaxy in case he ever needed one. What Jarrick didn't know, and what it took Feist a week of begging, yelling and red-tape to find out, was that Jennifer was special in a way Jarrick couldn't have imagined.

Feist approached Jennifer's treatment with two certainties: Jennifer Keller had to return to the Pegasus Galaxy, and when she did, she had to be protected.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The third week away from Atlantis Jennifer was physically healed, excepting the burns on her wrist that would probably mark her forever. She was confined to the base, but given free reign of the compound, and had been assigned to daily sessions with Dr. Feist.

Jen understood her prescribed course of treatment. Her memory was incomplete, but returning. She needed to be away from where it had happened. She needed be sure there were no hidden agendas or triggers - free of any implanted suggestions. Four weeks, they estimated, from the time she was released from the base hospital, with the caveat that it would take as long as it took.

Feist was direct as she opened up their first official session.

"Do you want to go back to Atlantis?"

Jennifer made a quizzical face that didn't fool Feist at all.

"I am sure you've thought about it. A week in transport…"

"When I was unconscious," Jen pointed out.

Feist smiled. "Fair enough. A week in the hospital on the compound. Now you have weeks here at SGC for us to work through some of your memory gaps and feelings about what happened. You'll need to decide if you are going to return to Atlantis."

The two had begun developing a rapport while Jen was in the hospital. It made conversations more honest, and lowered Jennifer's guard as she began what would be a long road to recovery.

"I thought my sessions with you were supposed to help me figure that out."

Jennifer crossed to a comfortable chair facing the doctor's desk and sank into it. Her frame was slight against a sea of cushions that enveloped her as she pulled her knees up to her chest and looked out the window while she thought about the Doctor's question.

He voice was small as she asked one of her own. "Will they let me go back?"

"You were the victim of a crime. More than a crime. What was done to you is considered torture by most nations in the world. Who would hold that against you?"

Jennifer decided to treat the last question as rhetorical and continued to look out the window.

Feist was forced into a follow-up question to get Jen talking.

"Do you want to resume your duties?"

"I love being a doctor." Jen smiled the way she did every time she thought about how much she loved her vocation. "But I'd love it anywhere."

"OK. Do you want to resume your duties on Atlantis?"

"I just don't know what anything will be like if I go back. With my staff. With My friends. With Ronon." Jennifer couldn't separate her job there from her life there.

"Are you afraid they'll reject you?"

"Not outright, no." Jennifer knew her Atlantis family was too cared for her too much to do that, but her concern lingered. "But what if all of this made them realize that I just don't belong there -that I'm too weak."

"Weak. That's a word that Jarrick used a lot in his sessions with you. Why do you think he focused on it?"

"Because there is so much truth to it?" Jennifer questioned back at the Doctor.

Dr. Feist opened Jennifer's personnel file. "Graduated top of your class, years ahead of your peers. Known to be excellent diagnostician, A nationally known trauma surgeon, technically a genius … doesn't sound weak."

"Sounds smart," Jennifer conceded, "but a person can be smart and weak at the same time, can't they?"

"Maybe. But someone who sought a life unlike any she had known to practice her art of healing to a universe she didn't understand doesn't sound weak."

"Then why do I feel weak?"

"I don't know – why do you feel weak?"

Jennifer face scrunched in frustration of having her words parroted back to her. "It isn't the medicine."

"Then what is it?"

"Knowing that Jarrick thought they could use me to hurt my friends. Knowing that I always need to be protected. Now not just off-world."

"What if instead of weak we gave it another name. What if we said that for the remainder of your stay here at SGC you aren't allowed to use the word weak. How else would you describe it."

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Do you have a thesaurus around?"

"Yes, actually, right here. But you can't have it." She placed a sizable book on her lap as she continued. "I don't think it's weakness. I think it something very different that you've mischaracterized."

"Incompetence."

Dr. Feist opened the thesaurus. "Useless. Inept. Bungling. Ineffectual. Hopeless. That doesn't describe someone of your accomplishment. Try again."

"Helpless."

"Powerless. Unable to Help. Feeble. Incapable. Try again."

"Unprepared."

"Now there's an interesting one. Not Ready. Unsuspecting. Ill-equipped. Untrained. If that's true – if you were untrained and not ready for what was expected of you on Atlantis, is that your fault?"

"If I'm unprepared for my job that's my fault."

Dr Feist took another tactic. "Think of a military counterpart who is in charge of a mission you might take offworld."

"Colonel Sheppard."

"OK. Now we're going to try something new. Close your eyes." Jennifer was skeptical but obeyed as Dr. Feist continued. "Imagine you are on a mission with Colonel Sheppard and something goes wrong."

Jennifer's eyes opened incredulously as she thought back on two years at Atlantis.

"That's just not that hard to imagine."

Jen shook her head and settled in for a long session.


	19. Chapter 19

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 19

"OK. Now we're going to try something new. Close your eyes." Jennifer was skeptical but obeyed as Dr. Feist continued. "Imagine you are on a mission with Colonel Sheppard and something goes wrong."

Jennifer's eyes opened incredulously as she thought back on two years at Atlantis.

"That's just not that hard to imagine."

Jen shook her head and settled in for a long session.

"Closed," Feist instructed. "The danger has subsided, and you are left with four people to care for, one is critical and requires all of your attention. What medical services would you expect Colonel Sheppard to be able to perform on his own or with minimal instruction?"

"Basic first aid, field dressing, immobilization, CPR, assessing signs of disorientation. Things like that, I guess."

Dr. Feist turned the scenario around. "Now imagine no one is injured, but there are enemies nearby. What would Colonel Sheppard expect you to be able to do."

"Kill wraith."

"No, I don't think so. You don't expect him to be a surgeon and he doesn't expect you to be a soldier. Realistically, what would he expect?"

Jennifer got out of the chair and began pacing. "They don't expect anything of me. That's the problem. I haven't given then any reason to believe I won't crawl up in a corner and cry." Jen's face was flush with her frustration.

"Don't fight the process, Jen." Dr. Feist changed her approach. "Name another doctor on your team."

"Carson."

"Ok. Colonel Sheppard and Carson are off-world on a mission. Something goes wrong. What would the Colonel expect from Carson?"

Jen thought back to offworld trips - scientists and medical personnel placed in dangerous situations. "That if he handed Carson a gun and said 'just in case' that Carson wouldn't shoot himself in the foot."

Dr. Feist fought the urge to chuckle at the comment. "Good. What else?"

Jen's manner eased as she thought about it. "That Carson could keep up if they had to make a run for it. That Carson could take cover someplace and hide. That Carson could avoid getting captured for more than five minutes at a time - that he could land at least one good shot on an enemy."

"Here is what I want you to do. Think about the examples you just gave me. I want you to take this piece of paper and write down five ways you wish you had been better prepared for your life on Atlantis."

"Like on missions?" Jen asked for clarification.

"Not necessarily. Five things that you wish you had known when you got there. Things that would improve your confidence."

Jen held the paper for a long time before she sat back down and started to write. Then crossed it out. Then wrote some more. Then crossed it out again. Finally she had a numbered list in front of her.

She handed the page back to Dr. Feist and waited for the woman to read it.

Dr Feist smiled. "Well, there are four concrete, actionable items on this list that you could make headway on during the next four weeks while you're here. I will talk to General McGinley right now and we can get you started on some of these things. The fifth one …"

"Yeah, I know. I'm on my own."

"Good session, Dr. Keller. Thank you. Same time tomorrow?"

Dr. Feist watched the younger woman exit. She put the list down on her desk, still smiling.

_1. Evasion_

_2. Conditioning_

_3. Gun Safety_

_4. Self Defense_

_5. Satedan Dating Customs_

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

By her sixth week away from Atlantis Jennifer hardly resembled the battered, confused woman that had arrived weeks before. Her body healed, her memory complete, she put her faith in Dr. Feist's plan of action and attacked it. Her mornings were filled with sessions, her afternoons and evenings filled with training, her evenings filled with very, little of anything but rest.

Jen was a doctor. Intellectually she knew that healing happened in its own time. She had told a million patients that very same thing, but found it hard to accept. Still, she had been the patient she always wanted people to be for her, and hadn't asked the question. When she was ready, Dr. Feist would tell her – she couldn't be her own doctor, and couldn't set the schedule.

After spending hours on hours hiding in the Rocky Mountains, the only thing on Jennifer's mind was a scorching hot shower, dinner and sleep, but she had one stop to make at the Feist's office.

"Dr. Feist?" Jen knocked softly on the office door.

"Jennifer. How did it go today?"

"They found me," Jen said with a laugh. "They always find me."

"They are the Fourth Recon Platoon, one of the most superiorly trained military forces on this planet. They're going to find you every time, Jennifer. You said you wanted to learn evasion skills, not magic. Major Abatello said you had them out there for nine hours."

"Nine hours and eight minutes," Jen corrected, wanting credit for every second. She was still rubbing the chill out of her fingers.

"I hear you even got an honorary callsign."

"Yeah. Praying that never gets back to Atlantis." Jennifer started to blush.

"It isn't that bad," Feist reassured her.

"'Rabbit?' It's pretty bad," Jen said, embarrassed. "Anyway, I got a message that you needed to see me."

Dr. Feist summarized the memo in front of her for Jennifer. "Fourth Recon is being transferred to Colonel Sheppard's command at Atlantis. They just received final orders. They leave in four days."

Jennifer had seen that coming. She guessed that was why she was asked to train with them – to help them prepare for what they might find on the other side of the gate. "They'll do well there – they're very good at what they do. Major Abatello is a natural teacher and leader."

"Yes, I am certain they'll be fine. But it does raise an interesting question about you."

"What, can't find another platoon for me to run around in the mountains with?" Jennifer asked with a smile on her face.

"Not exactly. There's space for one more on the transport."

Jennifer smiled, one of the rare honest smiles she had in the past few weeks. Dr. Feist was clearing her to go back to Atlantis, and just the thought of it made Jennifer glow.

"I'll take that as a yes." Feist couldn't help but smile,too. Jennifer's enthusiasm was contagious.

Meanwhile, Jen just beamed with excitement. "Definitely a yes."

"I'll contact SGA and let them know to expect you."

Jen's face scrunched the slightest amount, giving the psychiatrist pause.

"Well, maybe we could make it a quiet return?"

Dr. Feist knew the reaction was a sign of apprehension. Jennifer's final forty-eight hours on Atlantis had been traumatic. It wasn't at all strange for her to want to slide back into her live with as little fanfare as possible - completely unlikely, but not at all strange.

"You want to show up on their doorstep unannounced?"

"Just not looking for a welcoming party."

"Your call," Feist said with understanding.

Jennifer nodded her head, confirming her intention to arrive as quietly as possible. "Was there anything else, Dr. Feist?"

"Actually – one last thing. I may have found a way to help you with item number 5 on your list."

Jennifer knew instantly what item number five was, but never actually expected assistance with it. She questioned Feist with a look, but no words.

"We have collections of oral histories, reports, stories, journals. There's too much to go through all of them, but there was this one account someone found for me. A woman from Sateda - older, widowed - she told the story of her life to someone at SGA, and they recorded it. There are some parts in here that I think will give you hints and clues, even if they are not complete answers."

Jennifer was stunned. She took the laptop with the information on it and held if reverently in front of her. "Do you mind if I …"

"Of course not."

Returning to her room, Jen watched the thirty-seven minute recording three times without moving. The subject was striking: Arleana was beautiful, strong, and passionate as she told her story of life and love and loss. Jennifer took in every word with respect and awe. There was no sleep for her that night – too many thoughts bombarding her brain.

It was so much more information than she had to go on before.

She just had to decide what to do with it.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Dr. Feist took the laptop back from Jennifer had borrowed and placed on the desk between them. "Your last night on Earth for a while. How do you want to spend it?"

Jennifer was clear and determined. "I need to find a tattoo shop."

Dr. Feist smiled as she reached into her pocket. "I actually saw that coming. I watched the recording before I gave it to you. You have an appointment at 8:00."

Jen took a small business card from Dr. Feist's hand advertising tattoos of any difficulty and smiled.


	20. Chapter 20

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 20

Ronon rolled his eyes and muttered an inventive conjugation of the word 'fuck' when he turned the corner and realized that he had walked right into Sheppard, Lorne and Teyla. Any attempt to dodge back around the corner to avoid them would have been obvious, unsuccessful, and clumsy, and if there was anything he was not, it was clumsy. Ronon slowed his pace and came to a stop waiting for the pestering to begin.

"Where you off to, big man?" Lorne asked, but with a tone that implied he might already know.

Ronon went with the first thing that came to his mind. "Running."

Lorne's face made an exaggerated confused look. "Really? I was sure I saw you running this morning. About three hours ago."

Ronon shrugged his shoulders, not committing to an answer.

"I think he's on his way to the gate room," Sheppard suggested confidently.

"Isn't SGA-3 leaving on a mission in about 20 minutes?" Lorne asked.

"Why, yes. Yes they are," Sheppard answered. "It appears Ronon here is picking up extra missions."

"What? Don't we keep you busy enough?" Lorne asked, feigning offense.

Ronon remained silent. It was a conversation that needed no input from him. It was obvious Sheppard was aware Ronon was taking on extra off-world assignments. Almost constant assignments. For the last seven weeks Ronon was constantly busy, and if Sheppard or Lorne's teams were on down-time, he just picked the next team in line and headed out again.

"All work and no play makes Chewy a dull boy," Sheppard observed.

"Boy?" Ronon's eyebrow arched slowly, the man missing the reference completely.

"I have a much better idea. It'll be a lot more fun."

Ronon waved a hand in the air, immediately dispelling any idea that he was interested in people keeping him busy with Earth sports. "I am not playing golf."

"You know, next time you are on Earth we are going out to play 18 holes and you will understand the magnificence of the game." John shook his head at Ronon's obstinate stand on the subject.

"I do not believe Ronon's opinion of the game will change if instead of just hitting balls he has to hit a ball, then follow it all over a manicured pasture and hit the same ball again," Teyla pointed out.

"That is a terrible description of …."

Lorne interrupted "You are getting off topic." The look from Sheppard at being cut off inspired Lorne to add a quick "Sir" to the end of the sentence. Then Lorne focused in on Ronon. "That isn't at all what we have in mind."

"I need to go," was all Ronon said, not enjoying or understanding the amusement and hint of conspiracy circling around him.

"Come on, Ronon. The SGA-3 tem is set – they don't need any more bodies for this mission. And I have something way better." Sheppard was down to pleading.

"Yeah, what's that?" Ronon yelled over his shoulder, making his way down the hall.

"New recruits."

Ronon stopped in his tracks, a smile coming wide across his face at the thought of a whole new class of Marines to break down and build up.

Sheppard came up behind his friend and continued selling the idea despite the fact that Ronon was already sold. "Just picture them. Wide-eyed. Green. Off the transport for the first time. Thinking they're all that."

Ronon turned back to Sheppard, who was determined to distract Ronon from the endless missions he had buried himself in since a certain CMO had been gone.

"I want yours to be the very first, bad-ass, scary as hell, alien they see."

Ronon now shared the other men's sense of entertainment at the idea. He was already thinking up ways to intimidate his new students.

Teyla attempted to be the voice of reason. "Do you not think it would be better to greet them in a less intimidating manner?"

"Well, yeah, of course, but this is way more fun." Lorne answered, giddy at the thought of tormenting the new recruits.

Sheppard clapped his hand on Ronon's shoulder. "Come on… you know you want to."

"I'm in."

They turned and headed for the jumper bay to meet the arriving transport, sharing ways to torture the new arrivals when a call came over the comm system.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is control."

"Go ahead, control."

"Sir, the arriving transport has declared a medical emergency. There was an incident in engineering during deceleration. They have three wounded. Mr. Woolsey requests you assign personnel to meet the ship. Medical team will meet you there."

"Roger that, control. On our way."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Atlantis personnel gathered staring at the door of the transport ship waiting for the ramp to descend. Poised to provide aid in anyway required, they waited for final docking procedures to be complete.

When the mechanical sounds of the ramp levers kicked in, the space went from full stop to complete motion in a split second.

And they heard, above all other sound, the very distinct voice of Jennifer Keller.

"Let's go people, move, move, move."

The Atlantis personnel could hear her before they saw her. They exchanged glances as a sanity check while they waited for the source of the voice to become visible, and were still in shock when they caught their first glimpse of her. She was atop one of the injured, straddling his motionless body performing chest compressions, her back to the team. She wore light grey camouflage BDUs, and a shirt that was also grey, but with a stripe of familiar yellow across the back.

Jen looked over at the other gurney quickly and corrected a Marine trying to provide assistance. "You need to hold him still. His chest is injured. Immobilize him from his limbs and shoulders." The young man nodded quickly and adjusted his grip. "Good."

She called for Abatello. "Major, calm him down. Tell him he's going to be fine, but we need him to stay as still as possible."

Abatello's voice could be heard in the background being as soothing as he knew how to be as the gurneys made their way side-by-side down the ramp. They stopped briefly while additional help joined the effort and the new arrivals got their bearings.

Jennifer looked up at the Marine who was working the bag breathing for her unconscious engineer. Her voice was calm as she encouraged him. "You did great. You kept him alive." Her compressions continued, and he counted the time to deflate the bag again. Jen saw one of the Med team take position behind the Marine. "One of the Atlantis medical personnel is going to take over now, OK?" He nodded his head.

Jennifer looked over his shoulder at a nurse from the medlab and signaled for her to step in. Picking up exactly where the Marine left off, they continued CPR. The gurney started moving again, and Carson grabbed it, helping guide it in the right direction while Jennifer gave him an update.

Jen motioned to the other gurney with her head, never loosing her rhythm. "That one took a severe blow to the chest and abdomen. Small amounts of blood in his mouth. They are keeping him immobilized as best they can, but he's going into shock. I want him prepped and ready for surgery in 10 minutes."

Carson nodded and gave directions to personnel. Then he motioned to the body under Jennifer and she explained his situation. "He got the hell shocked out of him. Need to get his rhythm started again. Been down six minutes, but CPR was started quickly."

"All right people, you heard the CMO. Let's move," Carson's brogue filled the bay.

Jennifer looked to him for a second. He never used her title – there was never a need - but he had chosen to use it now. She guessed there were more than a few stories floating around the halls of a crazy CMO who got drugged, brainwashed, and went and killed an IOA official. Carson said it to reassure her, and to caution others that she was back and in control.

She smiled at her mentor in thanks, and as his hand touched her leg he nodded once and smiled back. The gurney spun quickly to move the patient head first, and made a B-line for the door. They were just meters from the exit when Jennifer turned her head back towards her shoulder.

She knew Ronon was there from the moment that ramp lowered – she felt him in the room - but she hadn't actually seen him. Now the movement of the gurney and the position of her arms made it impossible for her to rotate far enough to catch a glimpse of him. But she knew he was close, and for the moment, that would have to be enough.

Ronon was fixed on her from the moment the ramp lowered. He followed her every motion and gesture and knew that in that situation the only thing she saw was the life she could save. She hadn't looked up - hadn't seen him, but with the small half turn of her head he knew she had felt him.

Finally recovering from his shock at her sudden appearance, he really took in the sight of her. The very corner of his lips betrayed a smile. She looked healthy. Strong. Beautiful.

His Jennifer was back.


	21. Chapter 21

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 21

Activity whirled through the medlab. Defibrillator paddles in hand, Dr. Pedersen's voice gave the warning.

"Charging."

Jennifer called out for assistance. "Major!"

Abatello was immediately behind her. His hands on her hips, he counted down.

"3 – 2 - 1 – GO!"

Jennifer pushed off her position on the gurney as Abatello lifted her out of the way. The minute her body was out of contact with the patient she yelled "Clear!"

Her eyes were glued to the monitor as the defibrillator jolted the engineer on the stretcher and his heart picked up its own rhythm.

Ronon watched the exchange from the hallway. He almost entered the room when the new Major put his hands on Jennifer, but stopped himself. There was something familiar between them. Jen had only called him by rank, but she knew him. She trusted him to know what she needed and to be there to do it.

Ronon's eyes narrowed on the stranger. Ronon replayed him lifting Jennifer off the gurney. As soon as her feet had hit the floor Abatello's hands were gone – no looking to her for approval, no lingering touch – he went back to his assignment. That spoke of repetition. Of training.

Not needing to see Sheppard, Teyla and Lorne behind him to know they were there, Ronon spoke over his shoulder, "Tell me about him."

Sheppard had seen the interaction between Abatello and Keller, too. He shook his head, but kept his commentary to himself. It had taken Ronon a whole five minutes to get his first twinge of jealousy. But Sheppard knew Jennifer's time away had been hard on Ronon, so instead of joking, Sheppard just answered the inquiry.

"Major Anthony Abatello. Former helo pilot. Now leads a force recon unit. Letters of Commendation. No discipline issues. A regular boyscout."

"Boyscout?" Ronon asked.

"Nevermind." Sheppard didn't bother to explain. "And pretty observant, too. Looks like he felt four sets of eyes on him and decided to come say hello."

Abatello stepped into the hallway and came to attention in front of Sheppard. "Sir, Major Anthony Abatello, reporting."

Sheppard waved off the ceremony. "Stand easy, Major. We aren't usually that formal standing around the infirmary. Exciting arrival, huh?"

Abatello relaxed. "Yes, Sir. Six minutes of excitement after six days of total boredom on the transport." Abatello laughed, and Lorne and Teyla both smiled. But not Ronon. His expression never changed.

Abatello reached out a hand to Evan. "You must be Major Lorne." Then to Teyla. "And Teyla." And finally to the Satedan. "And Ronon."

Ronon shook the hand in front of him without enthusiasm.

"So how is it you know Dr. Keller?" Teyla asked tactfully.

"She was at SGC and joined us for the last few weeks of our training," Abatello answered casually.

Teyla face asked a question, but before she could get the words out it was Sheppard who posed the question that had entered all of their minds. "What kind of training would you and the Doc do together."

"Couldn't say." Abatello tried to look innocent in his avoidance of the question, but to no avail.

Sheppard pressed. "When I said we weren't that formal I think you may have taken it too far. We still answer questions posed by superior officers."

"Sir," Abatello shoulders stiffened. "Dr. Keller was at SGC, and we were asked to incorporate her into our training rotation. The time was training for me and my men, but was technically considered medical leave for her. That makes it privileged information."

"Privileged?" Sheppard questioned.

"Protected."

"I knew what it means, Major."

"Yes, Sir." Abatello's tone softened. "Colonel, if you want answers to those questions you need to ask her. General O'Neill made it very clear that they weren't mine to give. Not even to you."

Sheppard understood as soon as Abatello dropped General O'Neill's name. This was the up-and-coming Major that had been asked to keep an eye on Jen while she was at SGC. John looked him over, deciding from his gut that it had been a good choice. It didn't hurt that Jen was also standing thirty feet away safe-and-sound – she provided actual evidence of success.

The Colonel softened his tone slightly as he aimed to break the tension. "So, Major Anthony Abatello, you have a nickname, 'cause that's a mouthful."

"Yes, Sir. Tony. Tello. I have four brothers and an ex-wife – I'm trained to answer to almost anything."

Sheppard laughed. "Well, you know how it works. You'll do something stupid here and you'll get a brand new nickname. For now, Tello will do. Lorne, take him back to the transport to grab his gear and get him and our new arrivals settled."

"Yes, Sir."

Evan gestured down the hall and Tello took the cue.

Ronon refocused his attention on Jennifer. She seemed comfortable with the condition of the patient she had come in with, and was turning over his care to Pedersen and Beckett. As the second patient was being wheeled towards the surgical area, Jennifer took a second to regroup. She rolled her head to the right and back to the left, stretching her neck to release the tension.

It was a move he had seen her do a hundred times after surgery or during a sparing session. It lightened his heart to see her do something so very … her; just Jen being Jen.

At the same moment, Jennifer turned towards the glass separating the medlab from the hallway and saw that despite the chaos of the emergency having passed, she still had an audience. Her movement stopped as she caught her first good look at Ronon.

Looking back through the glass, Ronon found her expression too complicated to decipher. It was a mix of relief, and hope, and strength; maybe some trepidation - and something he hoped was a mirror of his feelings for her.

She stood motionless, until the bellow of her name came from a nurse in the infirmary. She gestured at the operating room with her head. He nodded once, and she turned to follow the sound of her name being called.

"She will likely be in surgery for some time, Ronon. Perhaps we should come back," Teyla said, offering some subtle advice to give Jennifer a little space.

"I'll wait," Ronon replied as he watched Jen walk away.

Teyla leaned closer to her friend, one hand on his back as she tried to offer him some perspective.

"She made the difficult choice, Ronon. She came back to this world after all she has been through. Do not overwhelm her."

Ronon wanted to be angry, but he couldn't bring himself to be. Jennifer was back, and Teyla was right.

He followed Teyla down the hall.


	22. Chapter 22

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 22

Ronon had checked in at the infirmary twice only to be told Jennifer was still performing surgery. He ate. He ran. He paced. When he stopped by the third time they told him that Carson had run Jen out to get some food and some rest, so he searched. When she wasn't in the mess or her quarters, he kept looking.

His body moved itself instinctively through the hallways as it had done every day since she'd been gone, and brought him back to the room where she had killed Jarrick. It had been a place of retreat for him once, but that time was long past. Now he could think of nothing there but her pain and his own failure.

He moved silently to the door, not surprised to find her there. She sat in the same place she had that night seven weeks ago - but healed. And different somehow.

Ronon didn't want to intrude. He was sure that returning here on her first night back at Atlantis held a personal importance to her. He was also sure it held its share of demons, and he wouldn't leave her to face them alone. He stood in the doorway, one hand on either side of the frame, leaning towards the room but not quite entering.

She looked at her hands as she rubbed them.

Never looking up at him, as she welcomed his presence. "I thought of a million ways I was going to let you know I was back. None of them included some unexpected medical emergency. Sorry."

"You are a healer, Jen - always a healer. It never surprises me to see you saving lives." His voice held no frustration at her surprise arrival – just a peace it had lacked since she left seven weeks ago.

He waited, but she said nothing, and the silence unnerved him. He was a man of silence, a trait that grew after years of running. For him silence was now the default, but not the woman before him. She drew people in, and opened them up by opening up herself – it was her way. She shared herself with everyone and everything around her, and made it better by her presence. Silence from her felt unnatural.

He felt a need to draw her out. "You look good. Healthy. Strong."

She laughed in a way that told him she didn't entirely believe him. "At least I look better then I did last time I was sitting here."

She stood up as if to tear herself away from the memory, and stepped towards him. Her eyes traced memories around the room.

She looked back at the spot she had been sitting. "Do you still come down here a lot?"

He nodded his response, and although she never looked at him for confirmation, she guessed his answer.

"I see it a lot – in my memories. Sometimes in my dreams." She didn't say they were nightmares, but her tone gave it away.

"Do you remember?"

She nodded, finally looking at him. "Yeah. I remember. Everything. It took a few weeks to put it all together. The other stuff was easier, 'cause we had the recordings of the session, but in here… it just took a little longer."

Ronon realized he was still keeping his distance. He came into the room, only a few steps, but a beginning, trying to offer words of comfort.

"Jennifer, he would have killed you. There was no other …"

Jen waved her hand and shook her head.

"Knowing what he would have had me do to you; to myself? No. I've made my peace with killing Jarrick."

"Then standing here now, what troubles you?"

She closed the final few steps to him. He was just where she remembered him being that fateful night seven weeks ago. The palm of her hand rested gently on his chest, and she swore she could feel his heartbeat quicken. Maybe she just hoped she felt it.

"I aimed a gun at you." Her eyes were focused on her hand.

"Pointed, maybe. Not a lot of aiming." He tried to lighten the weight of the room, but she was determined.

"Ronon, I could have killed you."

"No, you couldn't."

She looked into his eyes. "I could have killed you," repeating the words slowly, somehow deepening their meaning.

Ronon understood. "Yes, you could have. But you wouldn't. I knew that."

"I didn't."

His hand reached to the side of her face, and he ran the back of his fingers against her cheek. "Then thank you."

"Thank you? For pointing a gun at you."

He smiled and explained his gratitude. "For trusting me when you didn't trust yourself."

She closed her eyes and accepted his comfort. "I do trust you." She could easily lose herself in his touch, but she didn't want to be lost – she needed him to know she had found herself, and it led her back to him.

"You went through so much, little one." He shook his head slowly, with a sadness for all of the pain she endured.

_Now or never_ were the words she heard in her head – her own voice, she was certain. She had thought about this for weeks, and was finally home, on Atlantis, standing in front of this man. It was time.

Jen stepped back from him, and he fought every urge not to step with her. When she turned her back his heart clenched that she couldn't stand to look at him through what she was going to say next.

She reached into the utility pocket of her BDUs and pulled out a necklace. It was a braided leather band – thin, but sturdy. Long, requiring no clasp or tie. Threaded down around the bottom was a golden pendant – the outline of a shooting star. It was simple, plain, no more than an inch in diameter. She pulled it over her head and let the pendant come to rest on her chest.

Then she reached into another pocket and grabbed an elastic band. She lifted her hair, pulling it into a ponytail and securing it high on the back of her head. She made sure her neck was clearly visible.

Then she held her breath.


	23. Chapter 23

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER CHAPTER 23

"Jen."

It was no more than a whisper from his lips.

Ronon was moved with an overpowering need to close the step she had put between them, and he did. His hand went firmly to her shoulder, his thumb lightly to the new mark on her neck.

An inch in diameter, just left of center above the collar of her shirt. It was a star, asymmetrical with two of the points extended in one direction. It was distinctive, and he was sure he had never seen another – much like the woman before him.

To see a woman marked in the custom of his people was overwhelming. It flooded him with memories from a life so distant it felt like someone else's; the day his sister chose a mark and showed it to the family, the day he saw Malena's mark for the first time – a million moments in time from Sateda that were all but lost until now.

Jennifer's eyes closed in the silence, nervously holding her ground.

Her minded drifted briefly to the night her mother woke her as a young girl and brought her out to the front yard. It was brisk, and she was bundled in a winter coat. Her mother made hot chocolate and brought blankets to the lawn. When Jen was cuddled in close, her back to her mother's chest, she followed her mothers arm, extended to point to the sky. On the clearest night Jen had ever seen, with more stars than she could count in a lifetime she saw her first shooting star. And her second. And third. She lost count after eleven, just giggling with excitement for each one that came to perform for her.

Not many years later, her father had replayed the scene after Jennifer's mom had passed. They sat out all night and told stories of a woman who had shaped and changed their lives.

Now the stars had become Jen's home. They made her stronger then she ever imagined she could be - brought her adventure and fear and sorrow. And love.

So she had chosen the star, offset slightly and stretched to imply movement. She'd had the pendant since her mom died. It had been a gift from her father to help a young girl carry the memory of her mother lost, but it become so much more. It reminder her of the spirit of her mother, the compassion of her father, the joy and pain of her past, the excitement of her present and the hope of her future.

It didn't have generations of history behind it like she was sure Ronon's did, but her mark reminded her who she was, and that was a good place to start.

"How…?" Ronon was still struggling to find words.

"I know you have questions. I can't tell you everything tonight – too much, and maybe for some of it, too soon."

"In your time, Jennifer. But for right now - this." His fingers lingered on the marking. "You know what this means?"

She nodded as she turned to face him, looking directly into his dark eyes. She had practiced the words since she had seen the video. She prayed to get them right; to convey her resolve.

"It means that I am a woman of honor and accomplishment, and that I know the will of my heart."

He exhaled a long and slow breath as he studied her – the set of her shoulders, the determination in her eyes, the smile breaking through. He believed her. She knew exactly what it meant.

This woman before him – she had worked her way past every defense he had to keep people at a distance. She invaded his heart in a way he had not foreseen, nor had he detected until it was too late. He loved her – and while the Mark of her Will and the pendent didn't mean that she loved him, it did mean that she was willing to take the next step.

His hand flattened against her cheek, while the other gently slid around to the back of her neck – gathering her hair between his fingers.

Her eyes were filled with a certainty that life in Pegasus rarely afforded.

Ronon covered her mouth with his own, gently coaxing her lips to return the gesture. She was anything but passive as she met his touch, parting her lips to deepen the kiss. When he attempted to separate Jen came up on her toes, keeping the contact for as long as her oxygen supply and short stature would allow.

He wore a smile she could honestly say she had never seen on him before, and blushed ever-so-slightly knowing it was for her.

His hand released her hair and came back around her body – stopping over the pendant around her neck. He hovered over it, as if it radiated heat he could feel. In keeping with tradition, Ronon couldn't touch it. Even if someday she bestowed her Will to him, it would be for her to give and to take, never for him to hold. His hands would never handle the token. But now he could look to a day when he would wear it, proudly, as proof that she had chosen him.

Ronan took the hand holding Jennifer's cheek, using it to turn her head to the side. He drew her body close, wrapping her up in his arms, her body fitting perfectly in his protective embrace. He loosened the hold only to kiss her softly on the top of her head, and then pulled her back to him.

His fingers found themselves returning to the mark on her neck, already memorizing its placement despite the fact that he couldn't see it as he held her. She melted into him, filling his head with possibilities of futures he hadn't dared to imagine in what felt like a lifetime.

"I'm here, Jen. Whenever you are ready … I won't push, but … if want to…"

"Don't worry." She wore a smile he could feel even though he couldn't see. "I promise – I will."

_**A/N:**__ Originally the story ended here, but the more I thought about it, the more an epilogue developed in my head to bridge to the sequel. So two more chapters to go: some more Jen and Ronon, some more answers, knowing me the way I do – some more questions, too. _


	24. Chapter 24

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER – EPILOGUE PART 1 – (CHAPTER 24)

It was a routine trading mission that had brought them to MLX881, but a ZPM and a circle of favors that had drawn out a four hour mission to its second day. John and Teyla heard rumors from the villagers of a man who had seen a ZPM. They went to try and barter for the location of the precious device from Legan, who realizing the value of the information, asked a favor in return.

The land Legan tended, a small farm on what could be compared to a medieval manor, had been worked by his family for generations, faithfully providing sustenance to the community. Legan had saved up for a lifetime, and wanted to own the land he tended. If Sheppard could convince Arturas to sell the land, Sheppard could have the address.

Arturas had grown up with every privilege as the only child of the Lord of the Manor. He was a good man, a just man, who recognized the contributions of Legan and his family. Would he sell? Of course, but the land wasn't his to give. It was being held in trust, for the Lord of the Manor had to be married to take ownership of the inheritance, and Arturas was not. There were plenty of women who would gladly have taken the job, but his heart belonged to only one, Reyna.

Renya's love for Arturas was just as strong, but before they could marry she must present her locket of ancestry to the local magistrate confirming her status as a citizen of the land. The locket she required had been put up as collateral on a debt by her father. When the debt was not repaid, the collateral was forfeit, and Dortron became the owner of the piece of jewelry.

But Dorton wouldn't return the locket, until a healer came and tended to his son, Temin.

Sheppard was relieved to finally have something Atlantis could provide that would put an end to the waterfall. Calling back to Atlantis, Sheppard had Dr. Keller prepare for off-world travel, and sent Ronon and Lorne back to the gate to meet her.

She came through without incident, Major Abatello at her side. Despite her insistence that she would be fine, it was protocol that the CMO not travel alone.

Lorne explained the two days of meetings and visits while they escorted Jen to the main village. The two mile walk was more than enough time for Evan to tell the stories of the Circle of Favor as he was now calling it. Jennifer couldn't help but laugh at Evan's recounting Sheppard's frustration. It all sounded like a bad soap-opera, and Jennifer was entertained.

Ronon watched her laugh, and although the drama of MLX881 was more annoying to him than funny, it was the first time in the three weeks since she'd been back from SGC that he remembered her laughing: a true laugh that shook her shoulders and brightened her face – that made her seem carefree.

Abatello held one of her supply bags, Lorne a second, and Ronon a third while she wore a small fieldpack on her back. It didn't escape Lorne that Ronon had freed her hand up only to take hold of it with his own.

As they arrived at Dorton's home Jennifer gave Lorne a telling look and motioned with her head into the house.

"I'll, umm, let Colonel Sheppard know we're back." Evan had gotten her hint, pulling Tello with him as he entered the house.

So had Ronon. He stood by the road with her. She had something on her mind, but her manor was calm, determined. He pushed away any thoughts that something was wrong and stood in front of her with curiosity.

"You didn't make it last night."

He smiled and sank his chin to his chest. His head still down, he looked up in both apology and amusement. His fingers danced to touch her fingertips.

"Not only do these people need favors, the take forever to explain them. We called in, I told them to tell you."

"They told me," she confirmed, but didn't quite seem satisfied.

His crooked finger gently touched her under her chin. "I am sorry I missed our date."

"I was hoping …"

Colonel Sheppard came out the front door just as Jennifer was about to speak. "Doc, everything alright out here?" The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he realized he had interrupted.

"Yep," she said, slowly taking a step back. She smiled at Ronon, a hint of disappointment in her eyes, but a smile that told him that everything was alright. She turned to John. "Colonel, do we know any more about the son's condition?"

"No, but he's inside, and his father is anxious for your assessment."

"Then let's go."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

In the end, it took no more than forty-five minutes for Jennifer to discover that Temin suffered from a very treatable case of asthma. It had flared up seasonally, the same time each year, and was easily handled with medication. The inhaler she provided and taught the boy to use brought his first comfort in weeks since the flare up began. As Temin headed out smiling to see his friends, the rest of the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

Temin regular breathing and stronger condition got Dorton to give the locket to Reyna. Reyna was carrying her seal of ancestry to the magistrate, and would now rightly be married to Arturas. Arturas would inherit his land, and could sell the farm to Legan and Legan would give the location of the ZPM to Sheppard.

All a day's work in the Pegasus Galaxy.

It took a while for the formalities to make their way around the village. Jennifer killed time by running an impromptu clinic for anyone who needed a Doctor. She saw seven villagers that afternoon, and helped each of them.

Sheppard had the location of the ZPM with two hours of sunlight to spare. It was on another world, and would require another mission, but that was for tomorrow. John shook hands with Dorton as the team took its final leave.

"Not all of our people live in the villages, Colonel. There are some who reject the ring and anyone who travels through it. Stick to the banks of the river and move during sunlight, and all will be well."

Sheppard took the warning at face value, and gathered the team. There had been six before Abatello and Jennifer arrived, now eight. They set out on the hike back to the Stargate.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The walk back to the gate was leisurely by the team's standards. The view of the surrounding mountain ranges spectacular, the weather perfect. Jennifer's first off-world adventure since her return had been a complete success. The group told stories about missions and feats of bravery and stupidity to help Abatello get to know the new team as they traveled.

John and Teyla had lead of the group, and Ronon joined them for a brief conversation about the next mission, hoping to reap another ZPM. As the group walked without a true formation it was Tello's turn to tell a story of his pre-Atlantis days. He was animated as he began, pulling everyone into the tale when he suddenly felt Lorne's hand on his arm, a grip that told him to stop moving and be quiet.

The two major's stood for no more than two seconds before their ears honed in on it – the shrill pitch of a shell or munition of some kind making its rapid approach. Their eyes locked, identifying the sound at the same moment, but it was Lorne who got the warning out.

"Incoming! Cover! Take Cover!" Lorne yelled at the team

The words echoed in the stretch of land between the river bank and the rock faced foot hills, spinning the lead group back towards the team.

It unfolded in slow motion for Ronon. He measured the piercing sound of the weapon and his distance from Jen, instantly knowing he would not reach her in time. It didn't stop him from trying. He rushed to her at full speed - to protect, to shield. When he saw the blast would land between them, he had no choice but to duck behind a tree for cover. He lost sight of her as the final seconds before impact ticked away.

"Rabbit!"

Jen snapped her head to Abatello.

"Cover! Now!" He demanded, and she responded.

Jennifer hit the release for her fieldpack, dropping it to the ground to ease her movement as she looked left and right. Choosing the rocks for better protection, she ran three steps and then dove to the ground, rolling into the joint where the rock met the soil. Her body turned away from the blast, her arms covering her head, she heard and felt the explosion.

Ronon stepped out from behind the tree as soon as the concussion of the weapon had blown past him. There were branches broken all around, dirt in the air, and silence except for small pieces of earth and tree making their way to the ground. He couldn't see her. It took two steps to be back at full speed heading for her last position, coming to an abrupt stop at the sight of her fieldpack, damaged with scorch marks.

"Jennifer!"

A/N: One last cliffhanger – because … well … 'cause why not. Our story's conclusion is just a few short hours away!


	25. Chapter 25

_**A/N:**__ For any of you who woke up in the US to an unexpected snow day – I hope this keeps you smiling. And warm. Stay Safe. _

THE WILL OF JENNIFER KELLER - EPILOGUE PART 2 (CHAPTER 25)

They walked through the gate side by side. Ronon carried Jen's gear on his shoulder, his hand fisted in her shirt beneath her jacket. It was a rudder he used to steer her out of the room as quickly as he could manage it.

"Medicals and debriefs in two hours," Ronon heard Sheppard yell behind them. Jennifer made the slightest move to turn and answer, but Ronon's hand kept her moving forward. He hadn't spoken in the mile from the explosion to the gate, and though she couldn't read his thoughts, she had no trouble sensing his urgency.

Ronon's breathing was forced with tension as he lead her into his quarters. A mix of emotions coursed through him with such power that he could barely separate them into their component parts.

Anger. He had gotten to far from her as they made their way back to the gate. Conversations with Sheppard and questions from Teyla about the next mission had distracted him. Ronon had trusted her safety to others, and was unable to shield her.

Jealousy. The call for cover had gone out and she hadn't moved, but when the new Major had called to her, the reaction had been instant. He shuddered at the thought of her body obeying the call of any other.

Dread. Her pack had been so close to the impact of the shell. She had been standing in its blast zone. His heart stopped when he saw it there with frayed edges and burns – that she had been so close to the danger – that fate might have brought her back to him just to take her away again.

Fear. She took a few seconds longer then the rest to start moving again, and when he called her name and heard nothing he feared the worst. He followed the steps from the pack towards the rock wall and was beside her in an instant, kneeling down, his hands on her body to search for damage.

Relief. When his touch registered she untensed her frame and rolled toward him. She coughed out the dust from the blast and crawled up to her knees, wrapping herself in his arms.

Love. Ronon realized as she caught her breath that he hadn't taken one of his own since her saw her pack on the ground. With dirt in her hair, disheveled, awkwardly balanced and pressed against him she was as beautiful as she had ever been, and he was lost in love with her.

The emotions all swirled together until they were inseparable from each other – their combined energy only describable in one word: need.

An unyielding, uncontainable, overwhelming need. To have her. Claim her. Protect her. Posses her.

He became frantic, desperate as he divested her of every peace of clothing. Her hands did their best to return the favor, but she had gotten no farther than his shirt when she realized that she was completely naked before him - nothing between them but a leather necklace with a gold shooting star woven into its loop that he was careful not to touch.

"Jen."

She shuddered at her name on his lips, so raw with emotion. She was unaware that one word could be so many things at one time. It was an admission that he was on the edge of losing control, a warning that they were nearing a point from which he feared there was no return or recall. It was a prayer of thanks for her safety. And it was a question – permission sought to claim her as his own.

He steadied his movement, putting his forehead to hers and offering her one last means of escape.

"Yes." Her answer was an clear as she could be - a total affirmation that she was exactly where she wanted to be, doing exactly what she wanted to be doing.

He pressed the length of their bodies together, chest to chest, kissing the lips that had just given him consent. His embrace lifted her from the floor, leaving her weightless as he moved her to the bed and lowered himself to her.

*** *** *** *** *** *** ***

As they untangled their limbs and caught their breath, Jen peppered his body with kisses, working her way up his chest. She scaled his body, kissing his neck and face until she was right in front of him. She adjusted her position, straddling him on the bed, her knees resting outside his thighs.

She should have been embarrassed, she thought to herself. She had been before with others – not that there had been that many. But not here. Not now. Ronon had done things to her body she had never experienced – drew sounds from her body she had never made – created longing, need, desire for more. More of him.

She never felt more… whole. Or certain.

Her hands gripped the necklace she wore and removed it from her neck, reaching forward to lift it over Ronon's head.

He reached, grabbing her wrists and holding them in place.

Jen's first reaction was hurt.

He hadn't meant for that. It just held such weight, what she was about to do. He couldn't bare the thought of accepting the token and finding it out it didn't mean to her what it meant to him.

"Jen, this means that you … that I … This is not something you do lightly."

"I thought it was what you wanted – what we both wanted." She squirmed to move off of him, turning to find a means of quick escape.

Ronon was resolute. He held her in place, positioning his head until he caught her eyes again so that he could explain. "It is, little one. I just need to know that you understand. This ties me to you."

Jen remembered back to the video of Arleana. She still had no idea if the words were tradition or if every woman said whatever came to their mind, but she had memorized the phrasing of this beautiful woman – someone she had never met who had changed her life. Jennifer had practiced her version of the speech since she had seen the video.

"It means that I am a woman of honor and accomplishment, and that I know the will of my heart well enough to share it completely with another."

"Yes, that's what the mark means. But giving this to me –"

"It means that you are a man of honor and strength, and have distinguished yourself above all others for my affection – that as long as you wear it no other will share my heart or my bed. It means that I choose you as my own."

The words tightened his chest in humility and disbelief – humbled that she offered herself to him so completely and disbelieving that she had done it is the ways of his people and not her own.

He had asked around in her absence, as discretely as one could, about Earth dating and mating and marriage. There was no conversation he had that didn't somehow convince him that Earth men were stupid. Marines were useless, the scientists were useless. He was more confused when she came back than when she left.

But this – this was a ritual generations of Satedans had shared. This had meaning he understood.

He had taken her body, and that gave her the right to lay claim to him. Short of death, there were only two ways such a pairing could end. Jen could rescind the token and break the claim, or Ronon could mark her with his will to sanctify the union. Only she could end it, only he could move it forward. It was a perfect Satedan custom to balance power in a relationship – it ensured that in a culture of honor, both participants had shown and had been shown the required respect.

He released her wrists, using his arms to help him sit up just a little straighter out of respect for the moment. He closed his eyes and felt the cold of the metal come to rest on his bare chest.

"I love you, Ronon."

He pulled her lips to his own, feeling her melt into the kiss and her body soften to the contours of his chest. As her hips moved in reaction to the kiss, his body reacted, Ronon feeling himself harden again beneath her.

Her eyes closed in their kiss, she laughed as she felt him, too. "Sheppard said he needed us back for debriefs."

Ronon grabbed his earpiece and activated it. "Sheppard."

Jennifer tried to stop him to no avail. The laughing made it hard for her to look stern. She couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, but could guess what it entailed from Ronon's response.

"So debriefs in the morning, right?"

Ronon grabbed Jennifer's hips and held her firmly, pressing her down onto the evidence of his need for her. He was rewarded with a groan that almost made him forget he was talking to Sheppard.

"The morning is better."

Jen laughed again.

"Yeah, but morning is better."

She looked at him anticipating a hint of John's reaction, but got nothing.

"Yeah. The morning sounds fine."

She shook her head, now just waiting for him to be finished.

"I'll tell her."

Her eyes inquired if she was the 'her' he referred to.

"Nah. I got it."

Ronon threw the earpiece onto the floor. "Sheppard says debriefs are in the morning." He smiled in victory, and in something more primal.

She smiled in anticipation. "So we have some time on our hands?"

"I have a much better idea of what to do with my hands."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Dr. Feist straightened her desk as General McGinley entered.

"I read your final report on Dr. Keller. Which was weeks late, I might add." The older man looked at the Doctor with a hint of suspicion. "Wanted to make sure there was no getting her back her before I knew what you had done?"

The Doctor gave no reaction to the angry man in her office, so he continued to express his displeasure at her silence.

"Deprogrammed. Reprogrammed. All the same, right?"

"It is much easier to program over the damage they did then erase it.," Dr Feist said, without remorse.

"It was a huge risk."

Feist was unrepentant. "Have you read that woman's file, General? How will we ever find out what the gene is for if she almost gets killed every other mission?"

"We know the gene is related to the Ancients, we just don't know how. And we know its rare. Two people so far, in everyone tested, and the other one is dead." The General was frustrated at the lack of data on which to draw conclusions.

"All the more reason to make sure that she survives there long enough for us to figure out what the hell it does."

He was slowly coming around. "Abatello is programmed to watch her?"

"All I did was program a Marine to protect a very valuable woman, and program a valuable woman to get past the flight response and let her training kick in. No one will even notice the difference." Feist had won the argument, and she knew it.

"So what to we do now?"

"We wait."

THE END

_*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***_

_**A/N:**__ So there it is. Hope you all enjoyed it. I had a great time getting to know the regulars in the fandom, and have really appreciated the feedback and encouragement along the way. Next story is in the works – I owe Ronon a shot at Stanton, and I owe all of you an explanation on the gene – and I have to think there is some fallout for Feist, but only time will tell. _

_Nika Dixon – I would still be reading the story to myself without you. Thank You. _

_See you all soon. - Kalli_


End file.
